Wrinkled & Torn
by Thayne M
Summary: When the queen reveals she's lost certain memories, along with the magick they need to restore the O.Z., she sends the gang out to retrieve them. Adventure. Eventual CainDG. My first Tin Man multichapter. R&R, please!
1. Uncertain Memories

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter One:: Uncertain Memories

"..._memories that were imprinted on my eyelids are now on the other side of the light_..."

**-- -- --**

DG took her place between her mother and her sister and stared up as the two suns began moving from behind the swollen moon. She felt her friends moving to stand behind the royal family, and she smiled, "Now, that's the O.Z. that I remember." Her smile widened when she felt her sister's hand covering hers, holding it as they had only moments before, and as they had many times as children, for comfort and safety and so much love. She squeezed back and chuckled a little when they began a sort of gripping contest, seeing who could squeeze harder without causing any irreparable damage. As soon as the suns had fully reappeared, Azkadellia tugged on her sister's hand and looked at their parents; DG followed suit and looked at them, "Mother, Father," they both looked at her and she grinned at them, "How about we sit down somewhere? Its been a long couple of days."

"I'm famished," Glitch chirped from behind them, making them all jump. "Perhaps the kitchen?"

The queen turned and smiled at him, "That sounds like a wonderful idea, Ambrose."

"Um, Majesty," he blushed slightly, as if afraid to correct her, "Its Glitch now; just Glitch."

She nodded, "Right, _Glitch_, then. I think we could all use something to eat. Azkadellia, could you show us to the kitchen, please?"

Az nodded, keeping her eyes low, afraid to look too long at either of her parents, "Yes, this way," she mumbled, turning to lead them through the door and down the many flights of stairs, having reluctantly released her sister's hand. She felt unstable, watching her feet move on her accord, and not that of the beast that had lived within her for the plus-side of fifteen annuals. It was strange, the way they wobbled and lacked the confidence and determination that the witch had given them. And it was stranger, still, that the princess found this to be one of the most comforting feelings she'd felt in a long time. She led them to the first floor of the tall castle, to a large, monochromatic kitchen that was obviously seldom used. It made DG wonder if the witch had even required food to function, which could be an explanation as to why her sister was so thin and boney. Azkadellia bit her lip and went to a large box that somewhat resembled an overturned refrigerator and lifted the door atop it, resting it against the wall and peering in.

"Um," she told them apologetically--the real Azkadellia was very meek, compared to the witch, "All we have are five hen eggs and half a loaf of bread. Not really anything to make a meal of."

DG let out a bark of laughter, "_Au contraire_, my sister--those are the perfect ingredients for French toast."

"French?" Cain asked behind her, "What does that mean?"

"Its a country on the Other Side," Ahamo explained, and DG was grateful that she wouldn't have to suffer being horribly misunderstood as long as he was around.

Cain then asked, "Why is their toast better than ours?"

"No, Mister Cain," DG turned to look at him, "Its called that becau--oh, my god!" She'd just noticed the bullet wound on his shoulder, still bleeding over the hand that covered it. She cursed him for not saying anything when he could have bled to death without anyone knowing. She rushed forward and gingerly ran her fingers around the outside of the wound, "You need a doctor!" He opened his mouth to protest when Raw cleared his throat and DG rolled her eyes at herself, "Oh, of course! Raw, could you?" He nodded and stepped forward.

"No, really, its okay," Cain protested, but Raw had already placed his hands over the bullet wound, a clean in-and-out shot, and the tin man let out a low hiss of pain. Within seconds, the healer pulled away and the gaping, bloody hole that had been there an instant before was now just a purpled, swollen bit of scarred flesh. Cain rolled his eyes, "Thanks. Now can we just eat?"

DG frowned and stuck her tongue out at him, a gesture he didn't quite understand, but she turned away from him before he could ask. She took the eggs and bread and set them on the counter, insisting that everyone sit and she started, enlisting only the help of her sister. Azkadellia, per DG's request, dug out a cast-iron skillet and set it over the wide stove, turning it on a low heat, and then sought out to find a canister of sugar. As DG began slathering slices of bread with raw scrabbled eggs and then placing them on the skillet, Az went about crushing the now-found sugar into smaller molecules until they made a fine, white powder, and she looked at the powder in confusion, wondering how it was any different from normal sugar. Soon, DG had made eight slices of French toast and was sprinkling the powdered sugar over them, then she handed them out on broken plates, with splintered and warped knives and forks, and they all began eating, cautiously at first.

"Mm," Glitch's eyes sparkled, "This is actually _good_."

"Thanks," DG told him, "My mo--um, Emily taught me how to make it when I was younger." She turned down her eyes, frowning at her plate, wondering if her parents could be _rewired_ to be who they were before, or if she'd even still be allowed to call them her parents.

As if sensing her concerns, the queen smiled at her, "Its all right, my darling; she was your mother for much longer than I was. I'm sure we can get them back to the way they were." The girl smiled thankfully.

Ahamo nodded and added pointedly, "Plus, it never hurts to have _two_ sets of parents keeping an eye on you." At this, DG groaned and shoved a forkful of food into her mouth, not wanting to think about how much she'd miss out on with two mothers and two fathers telling her what and what not to do all of the time. The queen and her consort saw this expression and began laughing, and the younger princess was in awe at how things seemed so carefree now, when barely even an hour before, they'd been so dire.

They made light conversation at first (including DG's embarassed confession that she had no idea as to what her mother's name was, and she was informed that is was Mère de Lumiére--Lumiére, for short), and then Azkadellia cleared her throat quietly, but loud enough to demand attention. She looked up tentatively, as if testing the boundaries of her mother's forgiveness before speaking, "Um, Mother?"

"Yes, Azkadellia?" Her mother replied smoothly, gently, as any mother would to her daughter.

The elder princess smiled feebly, "Are things going to go back to how they were? Before..the witch?"

Lumiére shook her head, a sad look falling over her face, "No, my darling, I'm afraid not. It won't be as easy as just defeating the witch. There are certain steps that need to be taken--magickal steps--in order to restore order in the O.Z."

Guilt filled Azkadellia's eyes, and DG reached under the table to take her hand in her own, squeezing reassuringly, before turning to her mother, "Then, we should get started right away; what magick do we need, Mother?"

The queen took a deep breath and attempted to smile, but failed miserably, "That's the thing, my dear DG; I don't remember."

-- -- --

**Disclaimer**::  
I'm tired of writing disclaimers! If I owned it, I wouldn't be writing fanfictions for my lonely heart! GAW!

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Uncertain Memories," by Gackt.

**Coming Up**::  
Lumiére explains to them the reason for her memory loss, and what they must do to retrieve her recollections.


	2. Dilate

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Two:: Dilate  
"..._every key works differently--I forget every time--and forgetting defines me_..."

**-- -- --**

Azkadellia's mouth was the first to fall open, "W-what do you mean, you don't remember?" She buried her head in her hands and mumbled against her palms, "Oh, what did I do?"

"No, no, my darling," Lumiére said soothingly, "The witch had nothing to do with it."

"Then," DG started slowly, looking from her sister to her mother, "I don't understand. Why don't you remember?"

The queen set her fork down on her plate and laced her fingers together, her eyes deep and intense, as if trying to justify her actions to herself as she spoke, "After I passed a portion of my life force onto you, DG, my power weakened significantly. I knew that if the witch got her clutches into me, there was no way I would be able to keep her from my mind; she would have known all of my secrets, and all of my magick. She could have taken what power I had left to restore the O.Z., and she would have taken it into herself and used it against everyone. So, after I left Father Time that day, I went to a special place, and I removed those specific memories and all of that magick and placed them into a vessel and hid it away for safe-keeping. After that, I was powerless against the witch, but hope still lived as long as the vessel existed."

Ahamo reached out and untangled her hands, taking one in his own and squeezing, looking at her with much love and understanding, "I would have done the same. So now we just have to retrieve this vessel, correct? Where is it?"

The queen smiled sadly at him before looking away, "I don't remember that, either, I'm afraid. I knew that if I allowed myself to remember its location, then the witch would be able to find it. All I remember is that I left clues, though I know what none of them mean." She shook her head, "I should have planned it better, but there was no time," her voice quivered with a slight helplessness and frustration with herself.

Ahamo pulled her close and pressed a kiss against her forward which, despite everything, made the queen smile. He told her, "You were rushed; there is no shame in that." He put his arms around her and rubbed her arms soothingly, and DG felt a little shiver go through her. Her parents were seperated for near fifteen annuals, but they never stopped loving each other. This was the first time in forever that they'd seen each other, but they still loved with no reservation, as if no distance had ever fallen between them. She wanted that. The thought came and went, as she realized this was not the time to get caught up in romanticism, and she looked at her mother. "You said you left clues?" The queen nodded and DG smiled easily, "Then its simple; we'll just follow the clues until they lead us to the vessel."

Lumiére sighed and shook her head, "Its not as simple as all that, unfortunately. I am much too weak to travel."

"Then I'll go."

"No," the queen said sternly, "Things are not at rest in the O.Z.; resistance fighters will continue to resist until restoration comes to the realm. They won't want to believe anything you tell them. Its not safe."

"It wasn't safe for me to come here and save you, either," DG said defiantly, "But I did it, and it turned out all right, didn't it?"

Her mother opened her mouth to argue when Ahamo spoke up, "She has a point." When his wife gave him a horrified expression, he shook his head slightly, "You know that I don't want anything to happen to DG either, but you trusted her to get as far as she has already; why not a little farther?"

Lumiére looked as though she might debate him, but after a few moments of silence, her face crumpled and she simply said, "You can't go alone."

"Majesty," Cain told her, "I've become quite accustom to the princess's wild ways; I'd be happy to accompany her." DG stuck her tongue out at him again, and he noted to make it a point to ask what that gesture meant, later.

Glitch piped, "If I may, I think I'm up for another adventure."

"Raw, too," the viewer nodded.

"And me," Azkadellia said, raising her head bravely, "I'll go with her."

At this, Lumiére shook her head, "Azkadellia, if you go out there, you will be targetted by people you've never even met. Aside from that, you're not used to being in your own skin, with your own magick and not the witch's. I won't allow it."

The elder princess looked to her little sister for support, but found only hesitation. DG bit her lip and took her sister's hand, her voice quiet and rational, "Az, I just got you back; I don't want anything to happen to you." They stared at each other for a few moments before Azkadellia surrendered, dropping her gaze and nodding slowly. They finished their meal in silence before moving to a large den with a fireplace that looked like it belonged in a Tim Burton movie and two wide leather couches that made everyone wonder if the witch had suffered some dominatrix obsession.

Ahamo lit the fire and they all settled in, most deep in thought. Finally, Lumiére took a deep breath and spoke, "So, you'll be needed the first clue. Its the only one that I kept, and its the first in a long line. Are you sure you want to do this?" DG nodded and the queen leaned over her husband to hold her hand over her daughter's, a warm glow gathering at her palm. When she pulled her hand back, a small slip of blue paper rested on DG's fingers, and she picked it up to examine it. On it were three simple words, none of which held any meaning to her:

_**One Woman Down**_

"Um," DG turned the paper to the side, as if looking for hidden codes, "Huh. Well, that's, um..." her voice trailed off and she looked at Cain desperately, handing him the so-called clue. He stared at it for a while before pinching a bit of his forehead between his fingers, "Its familiar," he told her. "I mean, it _sounds_ familiar, but I can't think of it." He handed it back, "Sorry, kid."

"Its okay," she told him, "We'll figure it out, right?" They all took turns passing the paper around, but no one could think of what it meant. Finally, as the skies darkened, they all found guest quarters to settle into for the night.DG insisted on sharing a room with Azkadellia, and they took one between Lumiére and Ahamo's and Glitch's, with Cain right across the hall and Raw next door to him. The two princesses argued playfully over who got what side of the bed before they finally struck a deal and settled in under the thin black sheets, both wide-awake, no matter how tired they were. Az sighed, at one point, and rolled away from her sister.

DG frowned, "I know you're upset with me," she whispered, "But can't you understand? I haven't had a sister for so many years, and now you're back, and I don't want you to get hurt."

Az nodded against her pillow, another sigh escaping her lips, "I know, DG; I just wish I could do something more than sit in this god-awful castle like a useless blob. Everything that's happened is my doing, and I just want the chance to take it all back." She turned slightly, "Most people don't ever get the oppurtunity for that kind of redemption." Then silence fell over them, and soon DG could hear a steady rhythm in Azkadellia's breathing, and knew she had fallen asleep. Not too long after that, there was a light rapping on her door.

DG stood and yawned, moving to unlock the door, and she opened it slightly. Cain was standing there, a bright look in his eyes. She opened the door further, wordlessly inviting him in, and watched him take in Azkadellia's sleeping form before he turned and began whispering to her. "I've got it."

"Got what," DG asked, "And why have you got it so late?"

"I couldn't sleep," he told her, "It was bothering the life out of me that I couldn't remember where I'd heard 'One Woman Down' before, but then it came to me."

After a long pause, DG rolled her eyes and hissed, "Well?!"

He offered a lopsided grin to her impatience and grabbed her elbow, leading her out into the hallway so that he could speak a little more freely. He asked her for the slip of paper and she handed it to him, and he pointed for good measure, "'One Woman Down.' All of the words are capitolized, so it dawned on me that it had to be a title of something. Well, about fourteen annuals ago, I was in Central City and I ran into DeMilo. Some words were exchanged, and inclusive was a confession that led to me and the rest of the tin men shutting down a little show he had going on. The name of his show," Cain grinned, "Was 'One Woman Down.'"

DG's eyes widened as she looked down at the paper, and then up at Cain, then down to the paper again, "So the next clue is with DeMilo?"

Cain didn't answer this. He only said, "We'll leave first thing in the morning, princess."

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::

Ah-ha-ha, oh-ho-ho, and a couple of tra-la-I-don't-own-this-so-don't-sue-me-las!

**Inspiration**::

This chapter was inspired by the song "Dilate," by Ani DiFranco.

**Coming Up**::

The gang leaves to go find DeMilo and run into a friend, and a night of story-telling takes place. Wa-_hoo_, fun.


	3. Scars

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Three:: Scars  
"..._our scars remind us that the past is real_..."

**-- -- --**

The next morning, Cain was loading the last of their supplies into the back of a horse-drawn wagon as DG said her goodbyes to her parents and Tutor, who had graciously declined the adventure. The girl moved to embrace her mother and father before pulling back and asking for her sister. Ahamo sighed and told her, "She's locked herself up in one of the rooms; she doesn't want to have to say goodbye, I think." DG nodded sadly before Cain called out to her and, with one last look over her shoulder, she went to sit next to him at the head of the wagon. Raw and Glitch both mounted the two horses they were taking, along with the two that drew the wagon, and they all started off on their new journey.

Glitch and Raw rode behind them, and Glitch was rambling on about something that Raw probably didn't care about or even understand, but he pretended to be interested anyway. Silence sat between Cain and DG, as it often did, for a stretch of time before she tired of it. "So," she finally said, "Do you suppose DeMilo is still in Central City." Cain simply nodded and DG wanted to smack him for not verbally answering her, but instead tried again, "Do you think he's still upset about us taking his wagon?" The man smirked a little and turned to look at her before nodding and looking back toward the road they were on. DG crossed her arms over her chest and mumbled, "Whoa, slow down, there, Lorelai; I can't understand a thing you're saying."

Cain looked at her again, one eyebrow raised to where it disappeared behind the brim of his fedora, and he asked, "Is that another one of those things I won't get?"

She nodded, "Probably."

He shook his head and focused on the path once again, but still spoke, "I don't understand half of the jokes you make."

She laughed a little at this, "Even if you were _from_ the Other Side, you still probably wouldn't understand them; I'm weird."

"Sure are." She smirked and gave him a little nudge before silence fell over them again and they travelled on until Glitch caught up with them and began complaining about his stomach rumbling. One glance to the suns told DG that it was a couple of hours past the normal lunch time, and convinced the ex-tin man to stop and allow them to eat. He obliged, reluctantly, and they stopped at the side of the road. Cain and DG fasted the two free horses reins around a tree as Glitch and Raw rummaged around for food, and soon heard Glitch's telltale shriek. Cain was gone in an instant, gun drawn and pointed to the back at the wagon. DG watched from the tree as his eyes widened and he lowered his weapon, then a look came over his face that danced between annoyed and enraged. She went to join the group and let out a gasp when her eyes found what they'd all been staring at. There, wrapped in a large blanket and looking up at them guiltily, was Azkadellia.

Of course, it took DG a moment to realize it was her big sister. She had cut her hair to her shoulders, and had apparently coloured it, too, as it was a lighter shade of golden-brown now. Her face was void of all make-up and she wore a pair of thick-rimmed glasses, and she was dressed in a long, green cotton peasant-dress. She barely looked like Azkadellia.

"Az!" DG cried, but in a quiet voice, "What are you doing here? What _happened_ to you? What are you doing here?!" She couldn't decide which answer she wanted more.

Her sister blushed, "I just...I _really_ didn't want to be left behind." She sat up, letting her legs dangle over the back of the wagon, "I used to think--because that's really all I could do when the witch had ahold of me--of what I would look like if I had a say in the matter. I decided that it would be something like this," she gestured to herself, "So I did it. And its perfect, because not only do I love it, but people won't recognize me as easily now. So I can join you."

"No--" Cain started, but DG cut him off by grabbing him at the wrist and pulling him a few feet away from the group. He looked down at her with wide eyes, reading the thoughts behind her own, "Come on, kid; you can't possibly think this is a good idea!"

She bit her lip and looked over at her sister, "No, its probably not. But I figure, she's going to follow us whether we like it or not, so she might as well be with us and safe than on her own and in danger. Mister Cain, let's just let her come along." He stared at her for a while longer and they had a silent fight with their eyes, as if the war could be won by going the longest without blinking, and finally Cain sighed and rolled his eyes, walking back over to the rest of the group.

"Princess," he said pointedly to Azkadellia, "You'd better do exactly what I tell you to and keep out of the way, understand?" She nodded vigorously, and that was that. She hopped out of the wagon and began helping unpack food, and soon the group was sitting on the grass, eating a somewhat unsatisfying lunch of bread and cheese, as Cain voiced the fact that they should preserve food for as long as they could. They drank water, despite Glitch's begging for the bottle of wine that rolled about in the back of the cart, and then packed back up and started off again, with Az sitting in the back of the wagon, making funny faces at Raw as they rode along, making him laugh out loud.

There was more silence up front before DG opened her mouth and said quietly, "Thank you, Mister Cain." He just grunted in response and the princess was getting more and more frustrated with him. The least he could do was make polite conversation with her. She was about to tell him so when a loud _pop_ echoed around them and Cain immediately put one hand on the back of her head, forcing her face down against her knees. He drew his gun and whipped around, only to drop it down to his side and bark out, "And just what in the hell do you think you're doing?"

DG heard laughter somewhere behind her, but didn't think to lift her head. "Honestly, I don't know how you ever survived on your own," a voice said. "I've been following you since you left the castle, and you had no idea."

"You don't know that," Cain grumbled. He looked down at DG, "Its safe, princess." She felt stupid for having stayed crouched so long, and quickly unfolded herself, turning to look at whoever it was that had been following them.

She rolled her eyes, "Jeb Cain," she smirked a little, "You scared the crap out of me."

"Sorry, princess," he said, sharing his father's mannerisms, even if they hadn't seen each other in eight annuals. He was seated in a saddle upon his horse, leaning forward with a cocky grin on his face. To his father, he said, "You do realize that you completely forgot about me, right?"

Cain frowned and stepped down from the wagon, "I didn't forget; we just had to leave as soon as possible."

Jeb nodded, "I figured, so I followed. Figured you might need a hand, old man." He looked around, "So, what do you say? Mind if I join your," his eyes fell on Azkadellia and his speech slowed, his brow furrowing, "Caravan?" The elder princess turned and caught his gaze, then blushed, guilt once again making its way across her face. Her eyes dropped to her lap. Jeb looked at his dad, "Is that Azkadellia?"

Cain nodded, "The real one. Not the witch. She stowed away."

DG leaned forward, "Was it really easy to tell that it was her?"

"No," Jeb shook his head, "I've just made it a point to memorize faces, so I recognize people easier than most would. Don't worry; a good portion of people in the O.Z. don't even know what Azkadellia looks like." He looked around again before shrugging, "So, do you mind?"

Cain smiled, and DG marked it as one of life's rare treasures. She was happy to see him interacting so well with his son, having known how much he'd missed him, especially all the time he thought the boy was dead. He nodded, "Of course, son." There were some more pleasantries exchanged before they began to ride again, now with Jeb's horse trotting alongside them, and they all talked lightly before the two suns began disappearing behind the horizon and they stopped to make camp for the night. The men set up the tents they'd packed with them as the two princesses made their way down a dirt slope to a spring below. Taking their time, washing off the grime of being behind clouds of dirt all day long, they exchanged memories of their childhood together. Once they were done, they dried and redressed and walked back up the hill to where four tents were set in a circle around a crackling fire. Cain explained that there had once been a tent per person, but with the two add-ons, arrangements had been made. DG and Azkadellia would share a tent, as would Glitch and Raw as the two Cain men took tents to themselves. After it was all agreed upon, the men went down to bathe as the princesses began cooking over the opened flame. Dinner was prepared by the time they were all together again, and they began eating.

DG looked up at one point and could see Cain across the flame. He was wearing only his tan pants and a short-sleeved shirt that she assumed he wore under his vest and dress shirt all the time. She noticed a raised, white scar running from his elbow up to somewhere beneath the fabric of the shirt. She asked, "Mister Cain, how did you get that?" She gestured to the scar and he looked at it, as if unaware of what she was referring to.

He chewed the food in his mouth and swallowed before answering, still staring at the scar, "That's from when I was nineteen years old. My father had this amazing stallion that I was never allowed to ride, no matter how many times I told him I could handle it. Finally, he let me ride the horse, and I got real cocky and started showing off," he chuckled a little, bringing his fork back up to his mouth, "Damn thing bucked and I ended up flying shoulder-first against a pitchfork."

"_Eesh_," the all cringed at the same time. DG was quiet for a moment before setting her plate aside and taking off her left shoe and sock, holding up her bare foot for everyone to see; there was a circular scar in the middle of her arch. "When I was thirteen," she told them with remnants of pain apparent in her voice, "My mother told me to go get my dad from the barn, because it was time for dinner. So I went to the barn and found him on this sort of raised level that we had; it sat about two feet above the ground. Well, we were about the go inside, and I jumped off of the level and right onto a plank that had a four-inch nail sticking out of it. It went right through my foot." She recieved about the same horrified reaction as Cain's story had.

Jeb grinned and held up his right had to show them all a scar on his palm that ran from his ring finger to his pinky. "When I was fourteen, I was teaching myself how to carve," DG remembered the carved horse Cain had found days before, and a glance up told her that the ex-tin man was thinking of the same thing. Jeb continued with slight laughter in his voice, "I got clumsy and the blade of my knife slipped over the wood and right into my hand. The doctor said that if it had been about a centimeter deeper, they would have had to take off my pinky," he wiggled the finger for good measure. Cain's lips were turned up in a smirk, but DG could see the sadness there that came from him not being there to dress the wound, or to worry.

Azkadellia pulled her hair away from her neck to reveal a dark pink mark there, "When I was ten, DG threw a rock at my neck and it ended up getting stuck there." The younger princess blushed and mumbled a small apology as the others laughed.

Raw held up one forearm that had three raised white circles on it, "Raw bit by _papay_. No like Raw very much." The amused look on his face made them laugh even more. Amidst all of the laughter, Glitch's voice came throat loud and clear as he pointed to his head and said, "I had my head cut open and half of my brain removed."

They all stopped, exchanging glances, and finally Jeb turned to look at him, a smile on his face, "You win." Glitch smiled, pleased with himself, and they all went back to eating. Every once and a while, one of them would pipe up with another scar story, and by the time they were all ready for bed, they all knew almost every scar on every else's body. At least, ones in places that were appropriate to talk about, which was a boundary that had been set with Glitch piped in with a slightly disturbing story that involved a needle and a very angry ex-girlfriend.

DG yawned widely as she settled under her blanket, which she'd folded under her and above her like a makeshift sleeping bag. Az had done the same thing, and was half-asleep a couple of feet away from her. The younger princess looked at the lantern that sat between them and brought her hand up, waving it in front of the light, extinguishing it. She was pleased with the way she seemed to be progressing with her powers. She smiled and then closed her eyes, sleep taking her almost immediately.

_Darkness. So much darkness. DG felt herself falling. It was a dream, she knew, because she'd had this dream before. Often. Everyone had this dream. Falling through endless darkness, never to hit the ground, but live with the prospect of hitting the ground as long as sleep felt like keeping you. She closed her eyes, and air began to run thin through her lungs; she couldn't breathe! She coughed and gagged and tried to yell for help, but all of her cries came out as breathy wheezes, and she just kept on falling down._

"Kiddo," she was shaken awake by a calloused hand on her bare shoulder, having only worn a thin tank-top to sleep. Her eyes snapped open and, once the blurry remnants of sleep left her eyes, she found Cain looking down at her. "You all right?"

"Mm," she nodded, "One of those crazy falling dreams."

"Ah," he said, understanding, "I've had many of those myself. Scary, huh?" She nodded again, and he jerked a thumb over to Az, "Your sister sleeps like the dead."

DG raised herself on her elbows and smirked, "Yeah, I guess she does. Oh, I didn't wake you, did I?" He shook his head and she sighed, "Okay, good. Well," she was suddenly very aware of herself, and the near-transparent top she was wearing, and she hugged her blanket to her chest, looking around, "I'm going to go back to sleep now."

He nodded, obviously unaware of her nervous motions, "All right. Just yell if you need anything." She assured him that she would and he left, allowing her to settle back in for sleep. She couldn't shake the feeling of loneliness that filled the tent once he was gone, and she began to wonder if she was going crazy. She brushed the feelings away and allowed herself to drift back to sleep.

"Up, up, up!" Azkadellia chanted at her some time later. DG cracked one eye open, squinting in the sudden daylight. Her sister stood above her, "Come on, get up; Mister Cain says we have to leave soon if we want to make it to Central City before dark." DG groaned in protest, but put her t-shirt on and dragged herself out of the tent anyway, moving to help pack up. Soon, they were on the road again, and DG couldn't help but find the song circulating through her head.

"_On the road again_," she sang to herself, sitting next to Cain on the wagon again, "_Like a band of gypsies, we go down the highway. We're the best of friends, insisting that the world be turnin' our way_," she turned and grinned at Jeb, who was riding alongside them and staring at her like she was crazy. "_And our way_," she continued, a little louder this time, "_Is on the road again. The life I love is makin' music with my friends, and I can't wait to get on the road again._" She did a little jazz-hands motion on the last note and chuckled a little, pleased with herself.

From behind her, Azkadellia piped, "That's a nice song."

DG laughed openly, "You think so? I _hate_ that song!"

Cain frowned, "Then why were you singing it?"

She shrugged, "It got into my head, and I just had to sing it. What, Tin Man; you don't like my singing?"

He shook his head, "No, you're singing actually wasn't terrible."

"Father's is terrible," Jeb put in, making Cain blush, "That's something I remember _clearly_ from my childhood. This man," he pointed to his father, "Can't hold a tune to save his life."

"Ah," DG said, as though realizing something she hadn't before. She teased, "So that's why he's so attached to his gun!" She and Jeb laughed and Cain grumbled something at them. They carried on for a while longer, until Central City was in their sights. They came into the city, finding no trouble with longcoats as they all seemed to have been pulled away to the castle on the night of the eclipse. They brought the horses to a stop outside of The Twister and they all waited as Cain went inside to look for a certain little man. He came back about twenty minutes later, dragging DeMilo along by one of his large, golden hoop-earrings. He slammed the man against the wagon and stared him down, "So, DeMilo."

"So, Cain," the man said snootily, "You bring me my wagon back or what?"

"Or what," Cain said breezily. "Now, DeMilo, before you start crying, I'm going to need you to remember something for me."

"Remember what, Cain?" DeMilo scoffed, "Memories ain't exactly cheap these days, if ya catch my drift. How about a little somethin' for my troubles?"

Cain nodded, "Okay." He reached to his holster and soon his gun was pressed snuggly against DeMilo's chin, "Is your life worth your troubles? Yes? Okay, then. Now, I need you to remember about fourteen annuals ago; the queen left something with you when you were still running your little sleeze show. A clue. Let's have it."

The pimp was quiet for a moment before shrugging, "I got no idea what you're talkin' about, Cain; you must be losin' it, man." His lips turned up in a nostalgic grin, "Ah, but I do remember my show. 'One Woman Down,' s'what it was called. Good times. Great times. Women as far as you could count, ropes, goats, and free beer. But, uh, nothin' 'bout no clue." Cain sighed and let him go, moving around to the back of the wagon, muttering something about short people's knees and a hammer. DeMilo let out a girlish scream and dug something out of his pocket, "Okay, here, here, here; it oughtta be real sentimental for ya, ya stupid tin man," he forced it at Glitch, who stood closest to him. Glitch examined the item with wide eyes.

"Uh, Cain," he said, almost breathless, "You ought to take a look at this."

"What is it?" DG asked, curious. She craned her neck and saw the small rectangle of metal that the man held in his hand.

Cain took it and flipped the piece of metal over in his hands. He half-rolled his eyes and looked up at the sky, his fist tightening around the clue, "Triple-inforced tin." He looked at DG, "Its from a tin suit."

"Not just any tin suit," Glitch put in, pointing to the metal, "The only triple-inforced suit was the very first one ever made, for the very first person ever put in a tin suit." Both Jeb and Cain were looking around, not wanted to think about the awful metal prison. Glitch went on, "If I remember correctly," he brought his fingers to his temple, as if trying to grab the memory before it escaped him, as his memories often did, "The first tin suit was used East of here, near the _skree_ swamps."

"Well," Cain tossed the scrap of tin to DG, who was caught off-guard but managed to catch it anyway, "I guess we'll stay in the city tonight and start out first thing tomorrow, then."

"Yeah, have fun with that," DeMilo snarled as he snuck away, "Ya bunch of wide-eyed, do-gooder freaks."

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
Me no own. Me sleepy. Me go bed, now? Please? Thank you? Hip-hop-anonymous?!

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Scars," by Papa Roach.

**Coming Up**::  
The gang finds the first person ever shut into a tin suit, and this person is one cool...cat?


	4. Cradle & All

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Four:: Cradle & All  
"..._I think I wanna sing myself a lullaby--feel free to listen; feel free to stare_..."

**-- -- --**

"We would have been better off in the woods," DG mumbled as she set about laying some blankets down on the floor. The only room Cain could find in the city was literally a room. It was a crowded little box with four twin beds, two tiny windows, and a narrow door that made them all thankful that none of them had wide hips. DG volunteered to sleep on the floor, insisting that it would probably be more comfortable than the lumpy, misshapen beds, and was setting her place near the windows. Raw, also, had opted for the floor, as he was more used to sleeping on the ground. DG's place was in the thin strip of floor between Cain and Glitch's beds, and Jeb and Azkadellia's were no more than five feet away.

"Grumble, grumble," Cain mocked, taking off his fedora and setting it on the bedpost.

DG's eyes shot up, snapping fire at him, "Oh, like you're one to talk? 'Hey, Cain, how are you today?' 'Grumble, grumble.' 'How's the weather, Cain?' 'Grumble-freakin'-grumble.'" She threw a pillow down onto the floor and, in one fluid motion, pulled her t-shirt over her head to reveal the thin top she'd slept in the night before, and crouched down to slide into her "bed."

Cain rolled his eyes, "Touchy, princess?"

"Careful, Father," Jeb warned from behind. Beside him, Azkadellia nodded, "Yeah, we're all tired and grumpy, so let's just go to sleep." The younger Cain turned to her and told her, "Well said, princess." She shrugged with a grin and went to her bed, and soon they were all under covers and drifting off to sleep. Some hours later, DG was woken by the sound of a bed squeaking, and a low whimper. She opened her blurry eyes and looked around to find Cain tossing and turning in his bed, sweat catching in the glow of the moon. She stood and walked to him, perching on the edge of his bed and resting her hands on either of his shoulders and gently shaking him. He woke with a start, instinctively twitching for his gun, but stopped when he saw the girl above him.

"Hey, kiddo," she said in a whisper, repeating what he'd said to her the night before, "You all right?" He nodded and she released him, allowing him to brush away the sweat that had gathered against his forehead. He let out a deep breath and told her that it was the same dream she'd had the night before; the falling dream. He teasingly blamed her for her dream being contagious, and then she apologized for snapping at him.

"Its all right," he told her sincerely, "I deserved it."

She smirked down at him, "You don't have to say that just because I'm royalty or anything."

"Oh, I wouldn't," he told her, a smile in his eyes that didn't quite pull at his lips. He looked her over, gaze falling to her shirt momentarily, before meeting her eyes again, "Besides, you dress nothing like a princess." She rolled her eyes and reached over him, grabbing his fedora from the headboard and dropping it over his face, commanding him to go back to sleep. She heard him chuckle as she curled back up under her blankets.

The next morning, every step was filled with groans and whimpers, as the beds and the floor had left all of the travellers with aches and pains throughout their entire bodies. DG was leaning against Glitch, finding herself unable to stand straight, her back screaming, pulsing every time she moved. The zipperhead helped her up into the front of the wagon, wincing in sympathy when she let out a low hiss. Once Cain came to sit by her, rubbing his neck with one hand to work out the kinks there, she leaned against him, whining lowly, and he sighed and patted her head before taking up the reins and starting them off.

"Ah," DG cried a ways up the road, when the wagon bounced over a dip in the road, jolting her, making her back twist. "I can't believe I thought the floor would be better than the beds." She pushed herself off of Cain, attempting to sit all the way up, and pain ripped through her spine. She tried not to show it, not wanting to have to put all her weight on him, especially not wanting to have to try to explain that odd, tingling feeling being against him gave her, but her eyes were soon welling with tears as a fiery feeling covered her entire body. She trembled a little, and tried to hold strong.

Cain sighed and tossed over whose shoulder to the others, "You guys ready for a lunch stop?" They all agreed and the man pulled the wagon to a stop. The others unpacked and set up a small ways into the wooded area, but Cain held DG back and she turned two confused eyes upward to look at him.

"Once we get to the skree swamps," he told her as he lay one of the blankets down to cover the back of the wagon, "We'll have to leave the horses and walk. Right now, you're in no condition to walk anywhere. Lay down on your stomach," he gestured to the blanket. She gave him a cautious look before climbing into the wagon and flattening herself out on her stomach. She felt him crawl in after her, and turned her head to see him sitting on his knees next to her. Soon, she felt his hands gently dancing across her back, pushing down on the tight spots and working out all of the pains with slow, careful little rubbing motions. At one point, her eyes drifted close and she was aware of a soft, satisfied little moan creeping up from the back of her throat.

Cain let out a little chuckle and then pulled his hands away, "Okay?"

She carefully drew herself up to her knees and moved around a bit, stretching this way and that, before turning to smile at him, "Okay," she confirmed. He nodded, face as guarded and emotionless as ever, and he helped her out of the wagon and they went to join the others for a quick lunch.

"Cain," Glitch asked as he scooped a spoonful of beans from the pan they'd been using, "How do you intend to get us over the skree swamps?"

"What are 'skree,' anyway?" DG asked before Cain could answer.

Raw made a disgusted face, "Creatures made. Slime and dirt and smell. Raw get sick around them."

"Azka--" Glitch started, but then caught himself, "The witch made them out of people. Anytime a traitor was brought to her that she didn't see fit to kill, she would turn that person into a skree. They're horrible, overgrown slugs that evict a vapour when they're startled. Its not strong enough to kill, or anything like that, but its completely capable of knocking a full-grown man out."

"And we have to go over an entire swamp of these things?" DG asked, horrified.

Cain took his hat off with a sigh, running it through his hands, "We'll just have to hold our breath, I think. If it gets really bad, I may just have the rest of you wait while I go."

"And what happens when you pass out and end up sinking to the bottom of a gathering of skree, and we never see you again?" Jeb's voice was joking, but DG could hear the underlying fear there. Fear that it might actually come to be. So DG grinned and nodded, "Good point; guess you're stuck with us, Mister Cain." He rolled his eyes and placed his hat back on his head, then he stood and started packing up the lunch things. DG giggled a little and looked at Jeb, "I don't think he likes us very much."

"I just don't understand," the younger Cain shook his head, playing along, "We are very lovable; what did we do to make him hate us?"

"Do we smell funny?"

"Are we hideous to look at?"

Cain massaged his temples and groaned, annoyed with the two, and started back for the wagon. DG and Jeb followed after, chattering on about the reasons Cain didn't want them around until they'd started moving again, laughing along the way. As annoying as it was, Cain found it a little comforting, to have his son there, teasing him, cracking jokes, laughing. Even if it was at his expense, at least the boy was there and he was alive and he was still Cain's son. Also, some strange part of him flared a little, angry that DG could laugh and carry on with his son so freely, as if they were best of friends--or how they could tease each other, like a couple would. The feeling came and went, and he was left wondering what could have possibly summoned it.

As dusk began to fall over and a coolness set in that had not been there the night before, Azkadellia climbed over the front seat and settled herself between Cain and DG, telling them that a cold dark reminded her of something from a horror story and she didn't want to ride in the back, all alone. The two princesses both drifted off, leaning against each other, the motion of the cart serving as a sort of rocking lullaby. When they woke, they were off of the road and in the middle of a clearing, a faint smell offending their senses. The four men were tying up horses up when the girls went to join them.

Cain looked over his shoulder briefly before refocusing on tying the reins of the wagon-pulling horses, "You two should stay behind. We could leave Raw with you."

Az was the one who sighed this time, "You heard Deej earlier; you're stuck with us. Now, let's go." Cain turned to fix her with a hard stare for a moment before he gestured for them to follow, and they began the walk. It only took them a few minutes of walking before Cain held up his hands to stop them, his toe having hit something soft and squishy. He looked down, but could see nothing.

"Princesses," he said quietly, "Could you lend a little light?" The two girls obliged, joining hands, a soft light gathering at their palms and shining over what they could now see was a large, black field that moved and pulsed and wiggled and squealed. Cain's eyes looked every which way for a path that went around them, but couldn't find one. Soon, he looked out and found their only option. "There," he pointed, "There are breaks in the gatherings. Small ones. We'll have to go one at a time, and you guys are going to have to step exactly where I step. Understand?" They all nodded, and he started, stretching to place a foot in an empty place amongst all of the disgusting creatures. He brought his other foot up next to it and went for the next empty spot. The others stood still, no one really wanting to be the first to follow. Finally, DG let out a deep breath and stepped where he had. Soon, they were all standing at some point in the field, moving slowly and carefully. DG went to step where Cain had just been and one of the skree moved suddenly, getting squished beneath her foot. It let out a loud squeal and a large pore on its back opened up, releasing a thick, greenish smoke. It filled DG's nostrils before she had time to hold her breath, and the scent was like nothing she'd ever smelled before. She felt her eyes roll back in her head and her knees started to weaken beneath her. Cain turned and saw her falling, as if in slow-motion, and stomped on a few of the giant slugs, grabbing her before she could hit the rest of the gathering.

"Hold your breath and run!" He yelled before taking his own orders and sucking in a deep breath. He picked up the princess and started running across the swamp, smashing countless creatures under his booted heels before he made it to the other side. He set DG down on the grass and, his lungs about to explode, opened his mouth and took in several deep breaths. The others rested next to him, doing the same. The smell still filled the air, however, and they were all soon unconscious against the grass. They were only out for a few minutes, but when they rose, they were all overwhelmed by the desperate need to vomit. Raw and Azkadellia were the only ones that gave into the temptation, however, moving away from the group to do so. When they'd regained their composure, they joined the group to sit for a few minutes.

"Sorry," DG muttered, still fighting the urge to throw up. "It was my fault."

Jeb shook his head, also heaving a little, "Any one of us could have set them off; don't blame yourself."

Despite the gross feeling in her stomach, she managed to smile at him, "Thanks, Jeb." Cain prickled a little and then mentally berated himself; so what if they liked each other? They both deserved that kind of happiness. Why did it seem to bother him so much?

Glitch turned, looking around, and grinned a little, "There it is!" They all turned and saw the large tin suit up on the hill behind them. It looked different than the one that had held Cain, and the one that had held Jeb. It didn't have the circlular viewing hole at the head, but instead several smaller circles. Cain looked away, and DG, seeing the motion, stood and walked up the hill, to the suit. By the time Cain saw her, she was already working to removed the stakes that held the door shut. "DG!" He called out, jumping up to run to her, "Don't; you don't know who could be in there!" But it was too late. By the time he got to her, she'd already opened the door and let out a loud gasp. There, standing in the first tin suit ever fastened around someone, was a girl of barely sixteen annuals. Not only that, but the girl was the strangest DG had ever seen. She had waist-length, wavy blue hair, long and pointed fingernails and toenails, and her eyes were dark black slits surrounded by a bright yellow-green. Her ears pointed slightly and closer inspection reveals a long, blue tail. She wore a pair of blue pants and a matching tank-top, and when she opened her mouth to speak, DG could see that she had two pointed teeth on her top row.

"The smell," the girl...cat...whatever she was...said in a quiet voice, "You made it worse." DG didn't understand, as the smell had well near dissipated, but didn't have time to question before the girl collapsed against her. The princess wrapped her arms around her, gently lowering her to the ground as Cain crouched down next to her.

"What is she?" DG asked.

Cain shook his head, "I'm not sure. I've never seen anything like this before."

She sighed, "Okay, well, let's get her back to the wagon."

"What? DG, we can't--"

"What if we'd left you behind?" She snapped, putting one of the girls' arms over her shoulder and attempting to stand. Cain wanted to argue, but knew her stubbornness was a forced to be reckoned with, so he simple took the girl's other arm and put it over his shoulder. Back at the edge of the gathering, he told everyone, "We're making another run for it; hold your breath." They did, and had about the same outcome as before. Once they'd made it back to the wagon, it was well after midnight and the cat-girl was the only one still unconcious. She didn't wake until they were about a mile away.

She jackknifed into a sitting position, "The smell!" She sniffed the air, "Its gone. Its...its on you, but its not here. No--I'm not there." She looked around frantically, unsure of what to do with herself, "Who are you?"

DG hopped over the back of the seat and sat down next to the girl, "I'm DG; who are you?" She held out her hand to shake.

The girl eyed her suspiciously before shaking her hand, "Mérca. I was once an imperial guard."

"I don't remember you," Glitch told her from his horse.

She looked at him, "Well, you wouldn't, would you, Ambrose? I was brought on because of my ability to see things without being seen."

"Um, if you don't mind my asking," DG said slowly, "What are you?"

Mérca nodded, "Odd, aren't I? When I was fifteen, I was abducted by an alchemist near the Realm of the Unwanted. He took me underground and performed experiments on me for nearly a year. This was the outcome. When I escaped, I ran for a long time and soon found myself in the presence of the queen, and she made me a royal guard. The alchemist called me a 'perpétuel.'" She eyed the girl, "Who did you say you were, again?"

"DG," she told her, "Princess DG, daughter of Queen Mère de Lumiére, actually."

"Princess," Mérca's eyes widened and she bowed a little, "Forgive me. I haven't seen you since you were very young, before...before you died," she said with confusion.

"Yeah, that was a big mess," Az piped. "Very complicated. Hello--Princess Azkadellia."

"Azkadellia," the girl hissed, drawing back, "You're the one who gave the orders to lock me away. You're the reason I was in that hell for fifteen annuals!"

Cain looked over his shoulder, "It wasn't her. The real princess was locked inside of her own mind, her body possessed by the Wicked Witch of the Ancients. The witch is dead now."

Hm," Mérca pursed her lips and settled back down, but distanced herself from the elder princess. After everyone else had been introduced, DG asked, "So, Mérca, how old are you?"

"Thirty-five annuals." At the girl's incredulous stare, she clarified, "Once I became a perpétuel, I stopped aging. I've been sixteen on the outside for nineteen annuals." One blue-gray eyebrow raised, "How did you happen to find me?"

"Oh," DG said, as though she'd forgotten. She reached over the seat, gesturing for Cain to give her the scrap of metal. He did, and she turned to show it to Mérca, "This. We're searching for clues, and this one led us to you. Do you have one for us?"

Her eyes widened, the slits becoming even thinner until they were like paper, and then she closed her eyes completely, thinking, "She told me... Oh, it was so long ago."

"_Please_ try to remember," Az implored.

Mérca was silent for a moment before she opened her eyes, now wider and twinkling with pride, "She told me, 'three marks will get you one.'"

"Three marks will get you one?" DG questioned, "What does that mean?" The girl shrugged apologetically. Everyone was quiet for a long time before Jeb shouted for them all to stop, and they did.

He was speaking quickly, excited, "Oh, my god, I've got it; I can't believe I've got it." He smiled, "When I was fourteen, I wanted to get Mother something nice for her birthday, but I didn't have a whole lot of money. So I was out walking, trying to think of something, when a travelling salesman came through and stopped for me. He opened up the back of his truck and said, 'step right up, my solemn son; just three marks will get you one.'"

"What was he selling?" DG asked, as Cain seemed to have lost his voice at the mention of his late wife.

"Lockets," Jeb proclaimed. "He was selling these odd lockets that had a little winder on the back and you turned and it would play music. He said he was an inventor. His name was, um--oh, it was something weird," he thought for a few seconds, "Brake! His name was Brake."

Cain turned now, finding his voice again, "Where were you when he came through?"

"We were living in Keker, just outside of Milltown."

"We should head there," Glitch put in. "See if anyone else remembers him," Cain nodded to this.

Then Raw yawned, "Sleep first," he insisted. "Raw is too tired to ride." Azkadellia seconed this and soon they'd stopped to make camp for the rest of the night.

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
No owney, boloney!

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Cradle & All," by Ani DiFranco.

**Coming Up**::  
The gang find themselves in Milltown, and they meet a very strange character indeed.


	5. Deep Water

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Five:: Deep Water  
"..._you wake up to realize that your standard of 'living' somehow got stuck on 'survive'_..."

**-- -- --**

"I need to bathe," Mérca announced plainly as they began setting up camp. She was looking around cautiously, as if unsure of whether of not to believe that she was really free.

"Do you, um," Glitch chuckled nervously, "_Bathe_ like cats do?" Mérca raised an eyebrow at him and then stuck out her tongue, revealing that it was just like any other human tongue. He blushed, "Oh."

She began looking around again, "Even if I did," she said with a disgusted sigh, "A tongue-bath would never be able to wash off fifteen annuals of skree stink." She held up a hand and turned her head to the side, listening, "There is a stream just over that hill."

"How can you tell?" Jeb questioned.

"I can hear it."

"I don't hear--oh," he nodded with realization when she pointed to her ears. "Sorry--still not used to that."

"You may never be," she told him. Then she refocused on the group, "When I've finished, would it be all right if I returned? I'm kind of curious to see where it all leads."

"Curiosity kill cat," Raw chuckled, thinking himself clever. Mérca seemed to take it as more of a threat and let out a rumbling growl before taking a step toward the viewer. Cain, who was the closest to her at that point, put one hand around her middle to hold her back. "Its just as expression," he told her, "He didn't mean anything bad by it." When she finally settled in his arms, he let go and looked down at her, "And I suppose you can tag along." He only said it because he was sure DG would insist upoon it, but he couldn't deny that there was something about the perpétuel that sparked a sense of intrigue in him. She was interesting, like something mechanical that you can't quite figure out until you take it apart. He also felt that it would be a good idea to keep her around, since she was the only other one amongst the group that had gone through any _official_ protection training and could certainly be an asset to them all.

Mérca stared up at him. "Thanks," she said before turning and starting up the hill. Quickly, Azkadellia grabbed DG's hand and began to tug at her, calling out, "Wait; we'll join you!" The cat-girl stopped to let them catch up before she started walking again. Later, as they bathed in the deeper end of the stream, Mérca asked many questions about their conquer of the witch, and their oddball group. She asked the names and ages and stories of everyone, as if putting together some sort of police record. She seemed especially interested Cain.

"The blue-eyed man--" she started.

"Wyatt Cain," Az filled in.

"Yes, Wyatt Cain--how old is he?"

"Well, let's see," Azkadellia looked to DG, who simply shrugged, choosing to be uncharacteristically quiet. "Jeb is around eighteen, so I suppose that would set Cain somewhere around forty."

"His band," Mérca said, referring to his wedding ring, "Where is his wife? Did she choose to stay behind?"

"She died," DG said shortly, "A few months ago. Eight years ago, though, to him."

"Years?"

"_Annuals_, whatever."

Mérca's brow furrowed, "Are you all right, Princess DG?"

The girl did nothing to correct her when addressed in such a formal manner. She only nodded slightly, pinching the bridge of her nose, "I'm fine; I'm _tired_." She rose and wrapped her towel around herself, "Just--" she sighed and turned her eyes to the ground, "Just don't mention much of Adora to Cain. He's not over it; he may never be." After recieving an obedient nod, she redressed and started back for the camp.

--

"New clothes," Azkadellia whined the next afternoon. DG had traded transportation with Raw and was now riding horseback behind the wagon. For some reason, she wasn't feeling incredibly gung-ho about riding with either Cain _or_ Mérca, though she couldn't quite place why. Ahead of her, Azkadellia, Raw, and Mérca were making conversation, as if engaging in a Battle of the Stinks. Az sniffed at herself and groaned, "That smell is still all over me; I need new clothes to wear."

"You're telling me," Mérca topped, "I've been accumulating a great stink for _annuals_."

Raw wrinkled his nose and held out his arms, "At least Mérca and Azkadellia can change clothes. Raw can't change. Smell forever." The pitiful look on his face made them both make the sympathetic "aw" sound to him.

"Tired of the royal treatment?" A voice manifested itself very close to DG's ear.

She jumped and exclaimed, "Holy crap!" Up ahead, Cain heard and tugged on the reins, drawing the horses to an abrupt hald. Once DG had convinced him she was fine and they started moving again, she turned and fixed Jeb with a playful glare, "You almost killed me. What _royal treatment_?"

He smirked and gestured forward, "Your horse-drawn carriage."

"Oh," she nodded absently, "Just decided to rough it, I suppose."

"Ah," Jeb said, nodding his head wisely, like a sage, before lowering his voice so that only DG could hear, "So, it has got nothing to do with Miss Kitty making puppy-dog-eyes at my father last night and this morning?"

DG's eyes widened, but she quickly recovered, "Was she? Huh; that's weird."

Jeb only chuckled, unconvinced, but letting it slide, "_Okay_. Well, here's a bit of _useless_ information, then: Father tends to fancy his women a little more...human." Before DG could say anything, the younger Cain simply winked at her and rode ahead. Azkadellia called something from the back of the wagon--some question for Glitch--and the zipperhead sped up a little so that he could hear her better. Soon, those four were all engrossed in some conversation that looked very meaningful to them, but DG had a sneaking suspicious that it was something completely ridiculous, like the mechanics of a clam or the metaphorical emotions of the average oak tree when its leaves begin to change colours in the autumn time. She began humming lowly to herself, distraction taking her a good ten or fifteen feet from the wagon, lost in her own little world. Soon, there was a faint crack and she turned just in time to see the branch of one of those same massive oaks splintering above her and crashing down. She had barely enough time to throw up her hands before it hit her, throwing her from the horse and sending her tumbling down a steep hill. She was aware of letting out a howling screech of surprise before she fell out of sight, and as her vision began to blacken on the roll down the hill, smashing into the sticks and stones along the way, she found comfort in knowing that her friends would be at her side any moment.

Or, so she thought.

Up on the hill, they all heard the shriek, but Cain didn't even turn around, "Kiddo, you surprise too easy," he tossed out.

"For being such a brave soul," Jeb told his father, "She's very girly sometimes." Cain nodded in agreement.

Mérca was the first to look up and squint out behind them, "Uh oh."

"What?" Cain asked from the front.

"I don't see the princess's horse anywhere."

He sighed and rolled his eyes, "She probably just got distracted by something; she'll catch up to us in a minute."

Mérca nodded, and then a few seconds later, "Uh oh."

"What _now_?"

"I _do_ see the princess's horse," she turned her head, eyes full of worry, "Mister Cain, she's not on it." He needed no other discourse as his hands tightened on the reins and he jerked them back hard enough to make one of the horses rear slightly, whinnying in protest. He stood and looked at his son and an unspoken conversation took place between the two of them in an instant, and Jeb quickly dismounted. Without even putting so much as a toe on the ground, Cain lept from the bench of the wagon and onto the saddle of the horse and turned it, leading it in a run down the trail. They passed DG's horse and went around the bend they'd just past, and that's when Cain spotted the fallen branch. He dismounted and ran to the edge of the road, peering down the hill. He could barely make out the girl's slumped, unconscious form, as the debris that now covered her almost disguised her among the dirt and leaves. The hill was far to steep to climb down, and would be impossible to climb back up, even if he did manage to make it to her in one piece. He could see her move a little, and called out to her.

"DG!" He yelled, "Are you all right?"

"Mmph," she grunted in pain, "Cain," her voice was wobbly, as if it were taking all of her energy just to raise her voice. "My head. My arm."

"What's wrong with them?"

"I don't know," her voice was getting quieter as her energy was spent, "Bleeding." And then she slumped again. Cain was about to mount the horse and ride back to the group when he turned and saw them coming around the bend. He said nothing, he only ran to the back and began rifling through the supplies. "Of all the--" the grumbled to himself, "We packed everything _except_ for a rope?!" He grabbed a box of medical supplies and looked at the others, "One of you needs to find the nearest town and get a length of rope; we're going to have to pull her up."

"I'll go," Jeb volunteered, "I think I'm probably the fastest rider here." His father nodded to him, and then the boy was gone, his horse raising clouds of dust behind its running hooves.

Once Jeb was gone, Mérca said, "I can get to her easily, but I wouldn't be able to carry her up with me."

"That's fine," Cain said quickly, "I'm going to go down there and make sure she's okay. The rest of you go ahead and tie up the horses and keep watch. When Jeb gets here, I want to know immediately." They nodded and Cain gave them all a little nod before lowering himself on the edge of the hill, allowing himself to slip into a semi-controlled roll down to the girl, putting his arm out as a sort of brake before he reached her. He stood and ran to her, dropping down and scooping her up against him, shaking her a little to get her eyes to open blearily. She had a long gash running from her right ear that curved up to the part in her hair. Her left arm was cradled against her chest, and she whimpered any time he tried to touch it. He finally convinced her that it had to be done, and felt up her arm until he felt something familiar; he'd been so afflicted a couple of times in his own life.

"Your shoulder is dislocated," he told her apologetically, "I'm going to have to put it back into place."

"No," she whimpered, turning to bury her head in his chest, barely conscious but enough so to remember dislocating the same shoulder when she was fifteen, during a softball game. She remembered that the pain of relocation far outweighed the pain of having it out of the socket. Eventually, however, he was able to convince her that it needed to be fixed, and a few tears slipped down her cheek as he laid her down flat on the ground and unlatched his holster, instructing her to bite down on the strip of leather until he was done. She bit, and he took a hold of her shoulder. There was a sickening crack, followed by an unhuman scream from the girl's mouth, as he forced the joint back into its socket. She rolled onto her side, holding her arm against her chest again, spitting out the holster and sobbing loudly, screaming and cursing and hiccuping until her voice was raw. Cain was trying to get her to sit up, to no avail, when a rustling came behind them. He looked and saw Mérca crouched in the leaves. Walking on all fours, her eyes slits again, she drew closer to the girl and looked her up and down with great concern. "Princess?"

"She won't sit up," Cain told her with a defeated sigh, "And I need to put her arm in a sling, or else it might dislocate again before we can get to Raw."

Mérca nodded and drew closer still, until her lips were at the girl's ear. She spoke in a soft, gentle voice, like a mother would to an injured child, and she said, "Princess, you need to sit up now." When the girl protested, the perpétuel simply shook her head and whispered, "Come on, sweetie; we all know you're stronger than this." DG cried and whimpered for a few moments longer before her noises subsided and she allowed the other girl to help her into a sitting position. Cain let out a relieved breath and began fashioning a makeshift sling out of two tourniquets and some fabric from the sleeve of his shirt. Once her arm was secure, he went about cleaning the wound on her head--which thankfully wasn't very deep at all--and wrapping it in a length of guaze that caused her hair to stick up in odd ways. Her eyelids drooped, and he could tell she was beginning to lose consciousness again. What was worse was that autumn had reached the O.Z. and the temperature was dropping. Soon, dusk would be upon them and the cold, mixed with her injuries, could send her into shock.

"Mérca," he told the cat-girl, "Bring me a blanket from the wagon." She nodded and made her way back up the steep hill, taking it in leaps and bounds, her long nails digging in whenever she happened to lose her footing. Moments later, she returned with two blankets and went back up to wait with the rest of the group. Cain covered DG, who had officially blacked out again, and used the second blanket to make a pillow on his lap, manuevering her head to rest there so that he could keep a constant eye on her, making sure she if she was asleep or awake, and to make sure she was still--it hurt him to think--_breathing_.

Fifteen minutes past before he heard, "Jeb! Jeb is back!" It was Glitch's voice, and soon Cain could hear rustles and pounces in the dusk as Mérca brought one end of the rope to them.

"One at a time," she told him. "You have to wake her up." It was difficult to get DG to open her eyes, even more difficult to get her to hold on to the rope with her uninjured hand and walk, but they finally did it. As the group on the other end pulled, Mérca walked behind the girl, putting a steadying hand on her back any time she seemed she might fall. Once DG was at the top of the hill, Jeb carefully lifted her and put her in the back of the wagon, where Raw quickly moved to begin healing work on her. The cat-girl went back down to pick up the blankets as the ex-tin man was perfectly capable of keeping himself steady on the walk back up. The first thing he did at the top was embrace his son quickly and then he moved to sit next to DG, his eyes never leaving hers. She was conscious now, and staring back at him with sad but grateful eyes. Mérca perched behind him, on the thin edge of the wagon, making it look effortless.

DG smiled weakly at them, all of her jealousy from such a short time ago almost completely gone. "Thanks," she said in a scratchy, quiet voice, "Both of you." She felt Cain's hand covering hers as her vision went blurry again, this time from weakness and fatigue, and she wasn't sure if his touch was real or just a hallucination. It was only when the man looked down at her with emotion-filled eyes that she realized it was real, and he'd truly been afraid for her.

And, for some reason, that knowledge seemed to overpower every pain she'd experienced that day. Wyatt Cain cared.

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
I don't own "Tin Man," or any of its characters. I do, however, own Mérca!

**Inspiration**::

This chapter was inspired by the song "Deep Water," by Jewel.

**Coming Up**::  
The group find themselves in Milltown, in the presence of Father Time once again.

**Special Note**::  
Mérca's name is pronounced _mare-suh_. I didn't feel like drawing her, because I have too many other drawing projects right now, so I used Meez to create the basic bit of how she'd look. Check it out:  
_http:// i114 . photobucket . com/albums/n246/iiyamuzai/Merca . jpg  
_(just take out all the spaces)


	6. Small Town Goodbyes

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Six:: Small Town Goodbyes  
"..._just a big city boy, doing a small town thing--gave the girl a golden locket instead of a diamond ring_..."

**-- -- --**

It was late. Next to her in the tent, Azkadellia was fast asleep, lips parted and steady breaths going in and out. DG had slept off and on since getting out of the ditch, but was finding it hard now that she was fully aware of the pain ripping through her head. _So this is how Harry Potter feels_, she thought miserably. Raw had healed her shoulder to the point that it was just a dull ache--more like a stiffness, actually--and could be taken out of the sling, but her head was a different story. He'd told her sadly that head injuries were different from others, because minds were so intricate--well, in Raw-terms, it was more like "heads hard to fix; minds messy"--so he'd been able to heal the cut, but her headache still remained. It was killing her. Everything was spinning and a nauseousness had begun racing through her body. Was she--? Yes. _Yes_, she was most definitely going to. She crawled out of the tent on her hands and knees and heaved, vomitting against the darkened ground. Once she had it all out, she groaned and swept a decent amount of dirt over the mess. The scenery started spinning again, and she didn't know how she'd survive it.

"Kid," a voice said quietly, "You okay?"

She looked up and saw Cain sitting on the ground next to the dying fire, looking at her with guilty eyes. She could always tell when he was blaming himself for something. She swallowed dryly and whimpered, "I think my head may have imploded." She crawled over to him and he watched her the whole time, until she finally stopped next to him and lay down, resting her head in his lap, her eyes to the fire. She felt him hesitate before his hand came up and rested on her head, dragging back and forth, playing with the soft curls there, picking out the occasional dried leaf or twig. The motion was making DG feel better, lulling her to sleep, but she could feel that guilt in his touch and she had to ask, "Are _you_ okay, Mister Cain?"

He paused before answering lowly, "It shouldn't have happened."

She laughed bitterly, "Mister Cain, most bed things that happen to people, _shouldn't_ happen to people."

"But I should have protected you," he clarified. "I shouldn't have let you ride on your own. I shouldn't have ignored you when you screamed. I shouldn't have--"

"Is this what we're doing?" She interrupted, mumbling as sleep began to tempt her, "The guilt-game? Okay, how about this: you shouldn't have let me dive for that flyball when I was in the tenth grade. You shouldn't have let me get my dad from the barn in the _eighth_ grade. You shouldn't have let me get onto my motorbike that day I got into an accident, or go out with that sexually frustrated _jerk_, Billy Hokadie."

He sighed, "DG--"

"I'm stubborn, Cain," she told him, eyes drooping, "And clumsy, and a little stupid, and I very rarely listen when people tell me something contrary to what I want to hear. You couldn't do anything about the fall, or the nail, or the accident, or Billy Hokadie; don't kid yourself into thinking you could have changed my decision this morning when I wanted to ride that horse."

He frowned, but chuckled a little and continued to massage her hair, "All right. You're right; you're stubborn, and clumsy, and you don't listen, but you're not stupid--at least you always have a reason for doing what you do." He paused, then added, "I think."

"I do," she insisted, squeezing his leg a little, "Honestly." Then she was asleep under his hand, breathing evenly with a little trace of a smile on her lips. He waited for a long time before he carried her back to her tent--grimacing when his foot fell through the dirt and into the sick she'd mad earlier--and put her in her bed. He then cleaned off his boots and went to his own tent. Once he was out of the clearing, Mérca dropped from the tree she'd been resting in and looked around, a deep frown obscuring her otherwise pleasant features. Could it be? Was it even possible? Could the princess and the tin man _really_ have feelings for each other?

--

"How close are we?" DG whined from her laying position on the bench of the wagon. The rocking motion that had once helped her to sleep was now making her motion-sick and she'd already thrown up twice. Her head was searing. Her legs were bent at the knees and her toes almost touched Cain's side; she desperately wished that the others weren't there so that she wouldn't have to worry about what was appropriate, and she could rest her head in his lap like she had the night before. Maybe then, the pain would disappear completely--just as long as he kept stroking her hair the way he had.

But he wasn't. That guy was gone, replaced by the usual, gruff Wyatt Cain whose only answer was, "Close. Stop asking."

She let out a low whimper when the wagon wheels went over a patch of gravel, making the whole cart shake violently. Traces of the last-night Cain showed when he looked at her with concern and placed a hand on one of her ankles, squeezing reassuringly. She tried to smile, but couldn't. She could only groan and ask, "Does Milltown have a pharmacy?"

"A what?"

She closed her eyes as another wave of pain rolled through her head, "You know, a place with _medicine_? You do have medicine here in the O.Z., right?"

"Oh," Cain said, "You mean an apothecary. Um," he frowned, "No. No, they don't."

"Why?"

Azkadellia leaned over the seat to look down at her sister, "Milltown is a robot village; robots don't need human medicines."

"Dammit!" DG screamed, which was quite unlike her. Even in high school, when everyone was swearing over every-other-word, she was never one to lash out with obscinities. As she yelled the word in the front of the wagon, a pain like no other stabbed her forehead like what she always imagined an anvil on the head to feel like in one of those Wyle E. Coyote cartoons. She curled into a ball and, before she could stop it, heaved and decorated the wood below her a festive shade of vomit. Azkadellia leaned over to brush her sister's hair out of her face, and then took her hand in her own, squeezing reassuringly, as it was all she could do for her little sister until they got to Milltown. When they did arrive, Cain leaned over the sick princess.

"Okay, kid, we're going to leave you with Azkadellia and Glitch, all right?" She nodded, not trusting herself to open her mouth, fearing her words would come out as grunts and heaves and violent lurches. So Cain departed, along with Jeb, Raw, and Mérca, leaving the girl in the care of her sister and close friend. Unfortunately, Milltown _was_ a robot village, and robots tend to make different noises than humans. Every time one of them would pass, DG could hear the annoyingly redundant buzz as their gears spun, or the high-pitched, whizzing undertone of their voices, or the heavy clink-clink-clinking of their metal feet on the ground. By the time the group returned, she was balled up, tears streaming down her face. On top of everything, the way she wrinkled her forehead when she cried made her head hurt even more, which made her cry harder, which made her forehead wrinkle more, like a torturous cycle.

"Kallistor Anthony. He's in the next town," Cain told them as he approached, "Father Time said you can't miss this fella's hou--" He stopped dead when he saw the crumpled princess, and he jumped up to the bench, leaning forward to inspect her, "DG?"

"Let's just go," she choked. He tried to say something more, but she simply sobbed, "Go, go, go, _go_." Without Cain even touching them, the reins rose and whipped down, causing the horses to start into a slow trot out of the town. "Better take over," she whispered weakly, "I don't know where we're going." He looked at her with wide eyes before taking hold of the reins and steering the horses to where they needed to be.

It took about an hour to get to the next town, and Father Time hadn't been kidding when he said you couldn't miss the locket-man's house. It was a small cabin surrounded by numerous cars, carts, appliances, and other odd contraptions that all seemed to shine and blink in neon. Cain halted the horses just outside of the house, and they could see a man hunched over the engine of a car, humming something to himself as he worked.

Cain hopped down and took a step toward the man, "Mister Anthony?"

The man didn't even look up, "Only cops and conmen call me Anthony. Which one are you?"

The ex-tin man simply shook his head, "Neither. I was sent by the queen."

"Ooh-hoo-hoo," the man said, feigning impression, "The all-mighty queen-y? Heard she got herself holed up in a box by your demon princess over there." He waved one hand in Azkadellia's direction, and she ducked down behind the wagon bench.

"How did you--" Cain started.

"Know who you were?" The man filled in. He gestured to a small monitor that rested on the edge of the car, "Father Time sent me a message on this little gadget here. Explained the basics of what's what." His tools clanked loudly against the car, metal hitting metal and echoing off of the thin plate of the car hood, eliciting a frustrated sob out of DG, who was still curled up in the seat. At this, the man dropped his tools and looked up. He started toward the wagon, wiping his hands on a red mechanic's rag along the way, paying no mind when Cain drew his gun threateningly. The man leaned over the seat and took in the princess's form, "Oh, jesus, honey," he muttered, "What happened to you?" When she only hiccuped in reply, he guessed, "Your stomach?" She shook her head, "Your head?" She nodded. He nodded back and dug into the pocket of his torn jeans, pulling out a capped yellow bottle, popping the top off and holding it over her hand. Two pills spilled into her palm and she examined them closely. Two white tablets with little Bs printed on them.

"Bayer?" She whispered.

"Best asprin the Other Side can give ya'," he told her. She gave him a thankful smile before downing the two pills, despite the protest of--oh, say--_everyone_ in her group. The man studied her a moment longer before looking at the others, "Name's Brake. Just Brake. Don't know any Kallistors or Anthonys, understand? Now, what do you need?"

Cain was still eyeing him suspiciously, and spoke slowly, cautiously, "We're searching for something, for the queen. We think she may have left you something, about fifteen annuals past."

Brake's face was suddenly very serious, "Oh? Well, uh, maybe we should step inside. Come on--everyone, now." Azkadellia and Mérca helped DG inside, and the princess could already feel the asprins beginning to work, as the aching in her head began to subside. The group gathered in Brake's large living room, and he gestured for them to sit. "So," he said, sitting in a chair and turning it so that he could see all of them, "You're lookin' for somethin' the queen left, hm?" He ran his hand over the stubble that sketched over his face. "What if I don't remember?"

Cain gestured to the perpétuel, "This is Mérca; she was locked in a tin suit for _fifteen annuals_, and she managed to remember her clue."

"Really?" Brake cocked his head to the side, "Who knew cats lived that long? Not I, not I." He gave Mérca a smile and asked, "So, fluffy, what was your clue?"

She growled lowly at him before answering, "'Three marks will get you one.'"

"Ah!" Brake startled them all by clapping his hands down on his knees and jumping up. He began pulling boxes from the pile of boxes that he had stacked at the far side of the room. He finally came across a large wooden one with the word MUSICAL MEMORIES carved onto its top. He sat back down and placed the box on his knees, opening its top and revealing dozens of smaller boxes, each containing a locket. He took one out and turned it over so they could all see the tiny winder on the back, "These sold really well for a while," he explained, twisting the winder. As soon as he stopped, a melodious tune twinkled from inside of the necklace. DG leaned forward, mesmerized, and the music seemed to make her head feel even better. "You like that?" He asked.

"Its amazing," her voice was dry and raspy from screaming and crying, "You invented them?"

"Of course," he said, as though it should be obvious, "Its what inventors do, after all. But, uh," he held out his hand, gesturing for DG to take the locket, which didn't go unnoticed by Cain, "You don't want any of these." He reached under the collar of his casual, brown button up shirt and tugged at a chain, pulling up a blue, heart-shaped locket. He reached around with shaky hands and unclasped it, gently placing it in Cain's hand. He opened it with a little difficulty and frowned.

"What is it?" DG asked.

Cain raised his eyebrows, "Trees. Just trees."

Brake rolled his eyes, "Do you really think I would have showed you the musical lockets first if it weren't relevant?" He gestured for Cain to turn the locket over, "Spin it, ya' freakin' Einstein." Cain frowned at him, but turned the pendant over and began winding the small hook he found there. When he let it go, and pleasant--if not haunting--tune began to play. It took only a few measures for Raw to catch on.

"_Des'da kurrook la'cshi_," he sang with a funny sort of pride in his voice and a tear in his eye, "_Kal mer merid'ko. Junte-dabal_! _Junte-dabal_! _E'on la'cshi_!" He finished at the same time as the tune and quickly snatched the locket from Cain, re-winding it so that it would play the song again.

DG leaned forward, "What is it, Raw?"

He looked at her with his trademark goofy smile, "Raw's home. The Land of the Viewers!"

"Oh, great," Glitch buried his head in his hands, "More grammatically inept fuzzballs." He winced when Raw playfully smacked him on the shoulder.

"So, that's our next stop?" Mérca asked, "The Land of the Viewers?"

Brake let out a low whistle, and they all turned to look at him. He chuckled lightly and slouched back in his seat, "That's a long way's away, and your horses must be tired."

Cain wrinkled his forehead suspiciously, "What're you getting at?"

The inventor grinned, "I got a big ol' bus back there. Runs great, fits ten, plus baggage." He cocked his head again, and DG was beginning to suspect it was his own little trademark, "Its all yours, as long as you let me drive."

The ex-tin man rolled his eyes and shook his head, eyes glued to the ceiling, as if talking to god, "What are we, the freaking McNamara caravan?"

"The _who_ caravan?" DG asked, and Cain seemed to smirk a little at that, secretly pleased with himself for finally have a reference that the girl didn't understand, instead of the other way around. This joy was brief, however--broken when Brake cleared his throat and wiggled his eyebrows. Cain sighed and surrendered, "Fine. Do you have a place where we can leave the horses?"

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
Now, I own Mérca AND Brake...but sadly, not Cain or DG or any of the other "Tin Man" characters. But you knew that, didn't you? YOU'RE JUST TEASING ME! Its a conspiracy; you're all plotting against me! -rocks back and forth- I'm a pretty girl. I'm a pretty girl. I'm a pretty girl. I'm a pretty girl...

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Small Town Goodbyes," written by me! Yay, me!

**Coming Up**::

The gang...ah, who in the hell am I kidding? I have no idea what comes next anymore!

**Special Note**::  
Brake's name is pronounced...well, like brake, as in the brakes on a car. Get it? Again, yay for Meez allowing me to be lazy and not draw characters. I made Brake really hot (physically and personality-wise), in my opinion, and I'm so proud. Check it out:

_http:// i114 . photobucket . com/albums/n246/iiyamuzai/Brake . jpg_

(just take out all of the spaces)


	7. Follow the Leader

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Seven:: Follow the Leader  
"..._so maybe it gets quiet and maybe it gets numb, but at least, then, that's still something to share with someone_..."

**-- -- --**

Cain was watching as Brake looked over his bus, carefully scanning to make sure that everything was as it should be. Cain had been having second thoughts about agreeing to take Brake up on his offer, until he saw the bus. It was a little longer than DeMilo's wagon had been, and about twice as wide, with two rows of cushioned benches that could just as easily be slept on as sat on. There were decent-sized compartments above and below for supplies, and there was even a small bathroom in the back. Aside from all that, the metal walls offered them a safety that their wagon could not, and with an engine in place of the horses, they wouldn't have to stop as often and Cain wouldn't have to worry about DG falling off her horse again. He sighed and thought of the princess, who was currently sleeping off the remainder of her headache on Brake's couch--how her eyes had lit up, overjoyed by something as simple as a musical locket, and the look she and Brake had exchanged still stuck in the ex-tin man's mind. If they could just take the bus and leave the guy--

"You don't like him very much, do you?" Cain turned his head to see Azkadellia coming to stand beside him, a gentle smile on her face that once again reminded him that he couldn't hate her--not anymore, no matter how much he wanted to.

He shrugged, his eyes back on Brake, "I don't trust him." He looked back at the girl, "What do you think of him?"

It was her turn to look at Brake, and a little twinkle shone in her eyes, "I think he's gorgeous. Smart. Skilled. Funny. I wonder if he--"

"Azkadellia," Cain put in, "He's at least a _decade_ older than you."

She grinned, "Oh, and you're completely _against_ that?" There was an underlying meaning in her voice that Cain was about to confront when the princess sighed and looked around, "This is the kind of stuff I should talk to other girls about, but Mérca is a little odd in that department, and DG is sleeping," she pouted.

Cain swallowed and tried not to let a redness reach his ears as he asked, "And DG...she'd be interested in a guy like that?" He gestured haphazzardly to Brake, who was now shooing Glitch away from the engine of the bus with a large pipe. Everytime he chased him off, Glitch came back within seconds, insisting that he could help, but Brake wouldn't hear of it. He insisted that the bus was his "baby," and if something were to go wrong, he wanted it to be at his own hands.

Azkadellia pursed her lips thoughtfully, "Hm, well," she tapped a finger against her chin, "I mean, DG is really mature, for the most part; it would only make sense that she'd like an older guy, to sort of balance her out." She was quiet for a moment before shrugging, "But I didn't really grow up with her in her 'boys' phase, so I'm not sure _what_ she's interested in." Then she walked off to help Jeb ward off the fight that was soon to break out between the two inventors, grabbing Glitch's arm and tugging him away to where Raw was sitting, still listening to the music of the locket over and over again. Pretending to be interested, the elder princess asked the viewer to teach Glitch, Jeb, and herself the words to the Viewer Song. Cain watched Brake for a moment longer before Mérca landed with a light thump beside him, seeming to have jumped from the top of the man's house. She stayed crouched for a moment, as Cain had drawn his gun and aimed it at her. Once he realized it was her, he put the pistol back in its holster and she straightened her form, standing close to him, inspecting him closely.

It became irritating very quickly, and he looked at her, "_What_?"

She drew back slightly, "You've been very angry lately. Why?" When he didn't answer, she nodded knowingly, "Because the princess was hurt." His eyes turned to her then, steel blue and full of so many unreadable emotions--the one that fought its way to the surface was worry; he worried for DG more than he did for himself. He looked away and Mérca drew a little closer, and Cain could feel her breath against his cheek, "Why does losing her scare you so much?"

"I promised her parents that she would be protected," he answered shortly, hoping it would satisfy the perpétuel.

It didn't. "Why does that duty automatically fall to you?"

"Because _I _swore to protect her."

"Such a large burden," she drew closer still, her lips barely a fraction of an inch away from his ear, and his body went involuntarily tingly at the presence of another woman's body so close to his. He knew that, if he wanted to, he could have Mérca, and she'd give herself willingly to him. He felt nothing for her--no love, no physical attraction, not even a smidge of enjoyment for her company--but it had been a long time since his body had been satisfied in the ways that a man's body craved to be satisfied, and the thought was becoming a little more teasing every second. That is, until she said, "And she doesn't even return the favour."

At that, Cain pulled away from her, fixing her with a hard glare, "You don't know what you're talking about."

"No?"

"No."

Once again, she came close to him, whispering into his ear, "We'll just have to see, won't we? The next time you're in danger, let's just see if that dainty little damsel-in-distress automatically rides to your rescue." She spun on her heel and crouched a bit, taking a few strides before digging her long nails into the trunk of a tree and climbing up high until she disappeared between the branches and leaves. Brake finally called out an okay for the bus, and while the others began loading supplies onto it, Cain turned to go inside and wake DG. He was surprised when he turned around and saw her standing at the door of the house, no more than ten feet away from him. She smiled, but Cain thought he saw something sad in her eyes, but dismissed it as a trick of sunlight and went to help her to the bus. She brushed him off lightly, insisting she was almost back to normal, and made a swift pace to the vehicle, taking a seat toward the front, leaning her back against the wall and stretching her feet out, preventing anyone from sitting next to her. Cain ended up in a seat cattycorner to her, next to a grumbling Glitch, still going on about how stubborn Brake was. As soon as everyone else had settled in--Jeb next to Azkadellia, Raw and Mérca in their own seats, and Brake at the wheel--the bus doors shut and a sort of intercom clicked on.

"Ladies, gentlemen, and unidentifiable furry things," Brake's voice echoed through the speaker, and DG could see he was holding a reciever in his hand and speaking into it. "Thank you for choosing the Magic School Bus. Before we begin our journey, I'd like to remind you all to keep your hands, feet, and all miscellanious body parts inside of the vehicle while in motion, or else you run the risk of severance." While all the others took this warning seriously, Brake caught DG's eye in the large mirror at the front and gave her a small wink when he saw her holding back a laugh, familiar with the precautions of rides on the Other Side. Brake smiled and took up the reciever once more, "Other than that, it should be a smooth journey, and I hope you enjoy it." He put the little microphone down and turned the key in the ignition of the bus, which woke rumbling and they were soon in motion. Brake soon opened a compartment that seemed to be a cassette player and slipped a tape in, and soon the stylings of Sam Cooke were swimming melodiously throughout the bus, and DG moved forward one seat to sit behind the man.

"I love Sam Cooke," she told him, eyes wide in amazement at the sound of the oldtime jazz singer. Brake echoed the sentiment, and the girl leaned closer, "So, you're _from_ the Other Side?"

He nodded, "When I was fourteen, I was ridin' the bus--_this_ bus, actually--back from school, and I was the last one to be dropped off, so it was just me and the driver. Anyway, we got caught up in a Travel Storm and it brought us to Milltown, bus and all. Father Time found us and took us in, explaining the O.Z. to us and telling us what our options were. Driver opted to try and get back, but I didn't have much to go back to," he shrugged, "Drunk mother and a high-and-mighty pop. So I stayed, and Father Time taught me about mechanics, and that's what I did from then on."

DG nodded, but then her forhead wrinkled, "But, the cassette, and the asprin--"

He cut her off with a laugh, "'Bout fifteen years back, ol' Father Time told me he was openin' a Storm to take someone to the Other Side--told me that if I wanted to go back for a bit, I'd have about twenty minutes before the Storm zipped. I went, got some headlines, loaded up on some essentials, and hopped the first wind back." He glanced over his shoulder at her before refocusing on the road, "How long were you there?"

"Fifteen years," she told him, eyes widening again, "I think the Storm you took you there was the same one my parents and I took."

"Queeny went to the Other Side?"

"Oh, um, no," she closed her eyes and shook her head, "Nurture Units; they raised me." They talked for a long while, about the Other Side, then about DG's adventure, and then Brake's life. Cain watched the whole exchange from his place next to Glitch, his hand clenching and unclenching, making a fist against his will. Why did he hate seeing her talk so freely to other men?

"Father." Cain jumped at the world, uncharacteristically startled. He craned his neck to look at Jeb, who was leaning over his seat, "Yes, son?"

Jeb's lips tightened, "Could you do me a favour?"

"What favour?"

"Could you, um," he glanced over his shoulder and dropped his voice to a bare whisper, "Could you not date the cat-lady?" Cain rolled his eyes as his son, Glitch, and Azkadellia all erupted in laughter. DG looked back at them, then away quickly, not meeting Cain's eyes. Instead, she sprawled out in her seat again and leaned her head against the window, letting the coolness that gathered against the glass soothe away the slight ache that still remained in her forehead. From that point, any time Brake asked her a question, or Glitch made a comment to her, she brushed it off politely, but with distance in her eyes, and fell silent again. Cain began to worry, thinking her head may have gotten bad again, and moved up to where she sat.

She looked away when he approached and made no motion to put her feet down. He sighed and lifted her legs, taking a seat and planting her feet on the floor. She let out a breath and sat all the way up, straightening her back, but still not looking at him; her eyes locked on the trees passing as they sped by. Cain wetted his lips before asking, "You all right, k--"

"I'm not a kid," she told him quickly, predicting the word before it even left his mouth.

"Right," he looked away, "Right, sorry. Are you all right, _DG_?"

"Mm-hm," she said, tight-lipped, "I'm fine."

He stared at her for a moment that seemed to last a lifetime before he told her, "You're lying." It wasn't an accusation, so much, or an attempt to prompt the truth from her, so she simply answered, "Yeah, I am." Then, in a familiar dance they seemed to be doing, she asked, "Are _you_ all right?"

He looked her right in the eye so that she could see the lie he was about to tell, "Yeah." At the same time, they looked away from each other and quiet took them, embracing them, squeezing out any energy they had to confront themselves. The tension lingered in the air around them like a thick smoke, and they both sat rigid and tough, neither of them moving or speaking, barely breathing in each other's presence, but neither of them making any move to leave the seat. They just shared in their awkwardness, and the things they couldn't say, until night came and Brake parked, taking a seat in the back for sleep. The only thing that changed between the princess and the ex-tin man was that she leaned against the glass and closed her eyes to sleep, while he stayed sitting up, but pulled his fedora down over his eyes and crossed his arms, letting his own eyes drift shut. Unbeknownst to one another, neither of them slept for a long time.

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
Are ya gonna make me say it? I don't own it!

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Follow the Leader," by Matthew Ryan.

**Coming Up**::  
Who the hell knows?!


	8. Sleeping Lessons

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Eight:: Sleeping Lessons

"..._go without until the need seeps in_..."

**-- -- --**

"What's up with them?" Brake whispered to Azkadellia and Jeb as the others slept on. He was referring to Cain and DG, who'd fallen asleep indifferent to one another, but had somehow shifted in their sleep so that DG's hand was gripping his shoulder, her head rested upon it. Cain's head was leaned against hers and one arm had snuck behind her back and held her waist on the other side. They both looked happy and content; the complete opposite of when they'd fallen asleep.

Az and Jeb sighed in unison, and the princess said, "No one knows. I mean, we all _know_, but we don't, uh--" she looked to Jeb for help.

The younger Cain nodded, "_We_ all see something there, but _they_ don't." He shook his head in frustration, "At this point, all of the hot/cold is just annoying."

Azkadellia agreed with a frown, "I wish they'd hurry up and admit that they've fallen for each other. I mean, look at them," she gestured to the pair in question, "They're so happy together, but they just won't admit it."

Brake had a sad look on his face, "Yeah, that's how it usually goes." The look remained for only a moment before it was back to its usual energetic cockiness and he clapped his hands loudly, jerking everyone from their slumbers, "Okay, rise and shine, folks! Time to get some grub and then get moving!" Cain woke and instinctively reached for his gun, pulling DG closer to him before she, too, woke, and quickly pulled away from him. He frowned internally, his body screaming for her warmth like oxygen, and as much as he tried to chalk it up to innocent hormonal urges, he couldn't seem to convince himself that it was as meaningless as that.

The rest of the group began filing off of the bus to unload food from the outer compartments, all rubbing sleep from their eyes and tossing small "good mornings" to Cain and DG. Cain barely registered a quiet voice in his ear. "Um, Mister Cain? Could you let go, please?"

The ex-tin man looked down and realized his hand was still holding her waist tightly. He brought his eyes back up to hers and his brain was suddenly flooded with adrenaline. "No," he murmured, and before he could think, he'd leaned down and caught her lips with his own. He used the hand that still held her to pull her closer until her body was pressed tightly against his. His nerves seemed hypersensitive and very, very alive as he felt her slowly return the kiss, her hand coming up to trace along his jaw. His tongue snuck out to part her lips and--

"Mister Cain? Could you let go, please?" He snapped out of his daydream and pulled his hand back as if she'd scorched him. He cleared his throat and leaned down to pick up his fedora, attempting to hide the burning blush his involuntary fantasy had caused him. DG gave him a confused glance before she stood and squeezed past him to join the others. Cain opted to skip breakfast that morning, attempting to wipe his mind clean of the thought of kissing the princess, eighteen annuals his junior.

After breakfast, Jeb and DG traded places so that both of them were seated next to their relative--this had been DG's idea, though Cain was rather thankful for the distance. He felt like a dirty old man, like DeMilo, or Zero--relying on girls so young for sustainance.

"Father?" Jeb said at one point. Cain broke free of his haunting thoughts, an unbidden blush of guilt staining his ears beneath the wide brim of his hat. He casually cleared his throat and turned to look at his son, who was gazing back at him with concern in his eyes. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course." Lie. Another lie. An even guiltier blush began to tug at him, "Why do you ask?"

Jeb shrugged, "You just seem...distracted, which is odd, for you. I mean, I think the only time I ever saw you distracted was," he looked away in thought before looking back, "Well, _never_. You've always been the most focused person I know."

Cain knew what his son was seeing--the glazed over look and the dreamy stare--and quickly covered himself. "Just thinking about all the clues. Where do you think they're leading us, son?"

Jeb saw through his father's story, but decided not to press it, with fear that he might tear the only paper-thin bond they'd so-far reestablished. Instead, he said, "I can't even begin to imagine. You never know with the queen. Mother used to tell me stories," he smiled faintly before it fell to a frown and he looked away. He cleared his throat and was back to business, "As complex as Queen Lumiére is, I wouldn't be surprised if it took us as entire _annual_ to put it all together." Cain nodded in agreement, carrying on an internal conversation. _In that case, son_, he was telling him, _You won't have a father for much longer. Much more of this runaround and I'll be dead before I see forty_. A seperate voice in his head said Jeb's part (_why's that, Father_?) in a ridiculously high-pitched voice that almost made Cain laugh out loud, but he sombered as his own voice answered, _Because being this close to _her_ all the time is driving me insane_. The little Jeb-voice was strained and squeaky in asking who, and that's when all fell silent in his mind. He couldn't even say it in his head. That was good, he supposed; at least he'd never have to worry about accidently letting it slip to _her_.

The father and son talked about nothing for a long while, and Cain was sad to find he had no great stories to tell, having been in that suit for so long, so he mainly listened to his son's own war stories, smiling with pride as every dangerous journey panned out to a satisfying victory. He sympathized over losses, offered advice over snaps in plans long past, and laughed at the little harmless goofs the boy had made along the way. Two feelings went through him. One was of warmth, spreading through him like a single shot of whiskey, and he was filled with joy at the fact that he was bonding with his son after so long thinking he was dead. The second feeling was one of complete terror, like a _double_ shot of whiskey, melting his insides with the fear that it might all be ripped away from him again.

Some seats back, the two sisters were riding in almost complete silence, as they had been since that morning, with DG staring blanking out the window. Finally, Azkadellia's patience broke and she whispered, "So, who are you mad at?"

"I'm not mad at all," he sister returned shortly.

"Are you mad at Mister Cain?"

"I told you, I'm not mad at _anyone_," DG hissed.

"Yes, but you _lied_," Az hissed back.

Her sister rolled her eyes and relented, "I just think its really selfish of him. We're all worrying about Mother's clues and all he can think about is flirting with the fuzzball back there," she gestured over her shoulder to Mérca, who was seated next to Raw, gesticularly discussing something. "I mean, can't be put his kinky, pent-up sexual frustrations on hold until we find what we came here to find?" She was worked up, breath coming out in quick little pants.

Az rolled her eyes, "Little sister, the only thing Wyatt Cain can think about is yo--ur safety," she caught herself, "And helping us find the vessel. He's a good man, Deej; a professional. Plus, what makes you think he was flirting with Mérca in the first place?" When DG didn't answer, her sister shrugged, "Okay, well, whatever the reason, just let it go--Mister Cain doesn't feel for her like that."

"How do you know?" DG was surprised to find her voice come out as shaky as it did.

"Just trust me."

DG opened her mouth to say more when Brake cut her off. He'd pulled the bus to a stop and was now turned around in his seat, "We're heeeeere," he called in a high-pitched voice, immitating the creepy little girl from "Poltergeist." DG and Az looked out the window at the greenest trees they'd ever seen and, hidden within them, dozens upon dozens of little huts, made of mud and twigs and stones. Behind them, they could hear Raw's voice, low and quaking, "Home."

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
I do not own "Tin Man." ...Also, Ican'twaitforZooey'salbumtocomeout!Justtwomoremonths!ThisMarch!March!MARCH!

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song, "Sleeping Lessons," by The Shins.

**Special Gloat**::  
Haha, fooled ya, didn't I?! You thought Cain was really kissed DG! But he wasn't! I WIN!

**Coming Up**::  
My lunch.


	9. Kiss From A Rose

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Nine:: Kiss From A Rose  
"..._the more i get of you, the stranger it feels--and now that your rose is in bloom, a light hits the gloom on the grave_..."

**-- -- --**

The Land of the Viewers was a shining example of a "royal opposite." Even though he knew better, Cain couldn't help but half-expect both princesses to wrinkle up their noses at the scene. More guilt filled his heart when they ddi not, and he felt judgemental and superficial--how well could he really know his charges if he expected such disgust from them? He was quickly ripped from his thoughts when Raw took hold of his elbow and began steering him forward.

"Cain save Raw from _papay_. Must meet Raw's people--must be honoured." Along the way, the viewer caught ahold of DG as well, "And DG save Raw from Azkadellia. Must be honoured, too." He tugged them to one of the larger huts and released them, gesturing for them to enter before him. They did and found at least half a dozen viewers staring back at them, expressions ranging from confusion to joy to terror. One of them--a slightly darker-furred one, who sat in the centre of them all--looked at the two humans and let out a loud, rumbling cry that resembled a lion's roar. DG took a step back and automatically latched her hand onto Cain's, tucking her head against his shoulder unintentionally. The man's heart leapt at the action and he held her hand tightly, eyes fasted to the angry viewer. "We mean you no harm--" he started.

"Do not think yourself worthy of my ear, human," the viewer growled in a surprisingly dignified and _articulate_ way.

"Elder," Raw came in behind them, "They are friends. Save Raw's life many times." When he didn't seem to have any effect, Raw threw in, "Cain and DG defeat witch." The elder studied them critically for a few moments longer before he rotated his jaw and cracked a little grin.

"Then, it is an honour," he told them, standing to embrace them, as if they were old friends meeting for the first time in years. "A viewer from Azkadellia's castle arrived yesterday and told us of the witch's defeat." He hugged Raw particularly tightly, "He made special mention of you, Raw, son of Caszra--he told us of your unmeasurable courage. I would be lying if I said I was not surprised, but I am very proud of you." If his face hadn't been covered in fur, DG was sure they would have been able to see a bright, happy blush on Raw's face, judging from his smile alone. "You must make yourselves at home in our village," the elder boomed jovially, "And we will have a feast in your honour."

"That's really not neces--" Cain started.

DG cut him off, piping, "That sounds lovely." When Cain gave her a questioning look--knowing her well enough to know she wasn't one for big gestures--she muttered from the side of her mouth, "I'm _starving_."

"Elder," Raw interjected timidly, "Who brought news to village?"

The elder turned to him, "It was Kalm, son of Yorlant." His face was suddenly downturned and sad as he took a step forward and put a gentle hand on his fellow viewer's shoulder, "The last scenes of the war were hard on him, I'm afraid; he is not well." A pause, then, "Would you like to see him?"

Raw shifted nervously before answering in a quiet voice, "No. Raw will visit later." Then he turned and left the hut, soon followed by Cain and DG. DG had yet to realize she hadn't let go of the ex-tin man's hand, and there was something blocking his vocal cords, denying him the ability to tell her so himself. They followed Raw back to the bus, where everyone had crawled into the daylight and were now standing around the vehicle. Az saw them approaching and nudged Jeb to get his attention, subtly nodding her head to their interlaced fingers. Cain, however, was trained in being aware of details and saw the gesture, and reluctantly untangled his hand from hers, dropping it uselessly to his side. She gave him a quick look, filled with confusion and a little longing, before she looked away with a light blush on her face. To brush it off, she cleared her throat and told the group, "The village elder will be holding a feast for us tonight. Real food," she almost salivated on the last word. "I can't wait."

"I'll bet you can't," Mérca muttered, brushing past the princess to explore the surroundings. After that, everyone sort of split up--Azkadellia took Glitch's arm and allowed him to lead her around the village, rambling on and on about the possibilities as to why the trees were so green there. Brake popped the hood on the bus to make sure everything was as it should be and Jeb stood by him, asking him about the different mechanisms of the automobile. Cain sat on the ground nearby, a small smirk turning up on his face when he heard a heated arguement break out over which was better: horses or cars. He was surprised when DG dropped down next to him, as she'd been giving Raw one of her famous pep-talks to make him feel better about Kalm, but he wasn't disappointed at her presence. Especially when she turned to him and smiled that priceless smile that made his recently reassembled heart melt.

"You're happy," she told him, teasingly accustatory, and he was glad the ice had thawed between the two of them.

He tried to smother his smirk, "What makes you say that?"

She raised her eyebrows and jerked her head toward Jeb, "There he is. He's breathing, and he's strong, and he loves you. Plus," she tucked her feet under her, "You guys have got this cute father-son bonding thing going on now."

He nodded, "Well, when you put it that way," he chuckled roughly, "Yeah, I guess I'm happy."

"M-hm," she agreed, "What more could a guy ask for?"

"You'd be surprised." She looked at him then, gasping at the clearness of his two blue eyes that seemed to contradict the hard angles of his jaw, now scruffy from not shaving. She wanted to know how that felt--the roughness of a man's jaw beneath her small hands--so reached out and ran a shaky finger from his ear to his chin, her eyes staying locked to his the entire time. His whiskers tickled her hand, and she found herself curious as to what it would feel like against her own jaw, and she couldn't stop herself before she'd already moved incredibly close to him. She could feel his even breath against her cheek, and she envied his ability to keep his cool in this situation, and then began to panic at the thought that maybe it was because he was uninterested. Still, she pressed forward, letting their chins touch before she brushed her lips against his, applying a butterfly wing's amount of pressure there before pulling away. When she built up the courage to look him in the eye again, she found them just as clear and unflappable as they'd been a minute before.

"You'd be surprised."

"Hm?" She internally shook herself to full alertness, "Oh, right. Sorry, I got distracted."

"By what?"

Her insides flipped and she feared she might be dangerously close to confessing her daydream to him before her stomach gave a little rumble and she found her excuse, "Hunger," she said quickly. "I could eat a whole cow."

"What's a cow?"

"Its a--are you serious?" She demanded, "You have horses here, but no cows?"

"No cows," he confirmed. She spent the next hour or so attempting the explain the anatomy of cattle before giving up and whacking him playfully in the arm, frustrated with his fascination of utters. After that, Jeb joined them (after a few more arguements with Brake and a violent wrestling match that left the younger Cain with a bloodied lip) and they spent a while longer exchanging funny little youth stories. As soon as the suns began to set, a fire was lit and food was set out for all the feast on, and feast they did. The elder and other viewers requested stories from the heroes, wanting to know every detail about the witch's defeat, which were gladly given in exchange for white meats and red liquors.

"What is this?" DG asked Glitch at one point, holding up a goblet of burgondy drink that had the most delicious taste.

He sniffed it and then grimaced, "_Egarton_. Its made from--"

"I don't want to know," she told him quickly, "It tastes too good to be made from something gross." She proceeded to eat until her stomach threatened to explode inside of her, and drank until her bladder filled three times over, then she broke away from the festivities to clear her head, and settled against a large tree a good distance away. She could barely see the fire anymore; she could barely hear the enthusiastic whoots and hollars from the large group she'd left behind. She'd just leaned her head back against the try, her eyes suddenly sleepy, when an unexpected thump jolted her to alertness. Her eyes focused in the dark to find Mérca standing not three feet from her, a distant and disinterested look no her face, "Tired, princess?"

"A little," DG answered back coolly.

"Ah. Perhaps this journey is a little too tasking for you. Perhaps you ought to--"

"Mérca." DG was relieved to her Cain's voice behind her, but not as relieved to hear him address the perpétuel, "Raw was asking for you. He's over by the fire." She gave him a long look before nodding reluctantly and, with one last look at the princess, leaving to seek out the viewer.

When Cain sat down next to DG, she looked over her shoulder at the other girl and asked, "I forget--is she a bad guy or a good guy?"

He chuckled a little, "You're the one that insisted we bring her along."

DG let out a quick laugh before mumbling jokingly, "Don't be an ass." Then she said seriously, "So, is she--I mean, are you guys--um..." She took a deep breath and then let it out before asking, "I mean, I know she's _interested_ in you, so are you..." she trailed off.

"No," he filled in, a little bit of tingling pride filling him at the thought of her being jealous of another woman. This was quickly replaced with embarassment, because he'd felt the same toward Brake, and even toward his own son.

"No?" She answered back, to be sure.

"No," he told her firmly.

"Oh... Hey, you know," DG tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "I had this crazy..._dream_...and in it, um, _we_ were..."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Huh." He tried to hide the pleasure he felt at hearing this and then, feeling daring, told her, "I had a...funny little _dream_...like that, as well."

DG was quiet, her blue eyes wide and cautious, as if assessing what to do next, and then she said, slowly, "So, what does that mean?" But as she turned her head to look at Cain, she could see exactly what it meant, gathering within the two azure pools there. It was funny how a real look from a real man could send a more-than-real shiver through her entire body, starting at the tips of her toes and ending at the split-ends of her tangled hair. She was drawn in by the collected seriousness and want that lay behind those translucent eyes, and she felt herself being pulled closer to him by some force she seemed to have no control over. Just like in her daydream, she seemed to have no control over where she was or what she did, and soon she found her face hovering just inches in front of his, eyes locked still, all searching and curious and desperate with anticipation. She could feel his breath, like before, only this time it wasn't calm and steady, it was shallow and quick with a nervousness she didn't think any tin man, ex or not, could have. Her lips were painfully close to his now, and it would only take a fraction of an inch to close the space between them. She started this short trip, feeling him tense, even though she was not touching him yet.

"DG!" A voice called, not panicked, but not patient. "Cain! Where are you guys?" They quickly pulled apart and stood, looking around until they saw Glitch stumbling through the bushes in search of them. DG reluctantly put up an arm and waved it back and forth to get his attention and he ran to them, stopping to catch his breath before reporting, "Raw is ready to see Kalm now, but he wants you two to be with him when he does. I offered, but he wants you two." They both nodded and, on the way back, walked in silence, putting a minimum of five feet between them at all times, both going over the recent event in their minds while trying to figure out if it was real or not. Once they rejoined the feast, Raw found them immediately and they followed him to one of the smaller huts, which the viewer explained to be the medic hut. Inside, it smelled like coconut oil and Solomon's seal, and the room was thick with the thick fog of burning herbs and the pale glimmer of lit candles. They could barely make out Kalm's small form, but there he was, curled up on the ground like a tortured and starving animal. DG was at his side in an instant, pulling him onto her lap like he were a small child, and she gently ran her hand over the fur atop his head. He was awake, eyes bleary and defeated, and he seemed to purr at the action, but stared only at his fellow viewer, waiting for him to say something.

"What's wrong with him?" Cain asked.

Raw shook his head, tears evident in his voice, "Kalm too small. Not ready for Azkadellia's torture," he let out a small, squeaky sob, "Strength is gone."

"Will he be okay?" DG's voice cracked with empathy, knowing how much the young viewer meant to her friend, knowing how he must blame himself.

Raw nodded and knelt next to them, putting one hand on Kalm's head, forcing a brave face, "Kalm stubborn. Will not give up easily. Right?"

"Kalm strong," the viewer in question answered feebly, voice whispy and quiet from fatigue, "Just tired." One shaky hand came up to grip Raw's, and the boy asked, "Raw is searching?" He nodded, and Kalm went on, "Lylo knew. Couldn't tell you. Couldn't tell anyone. Left with me," he pointed to his head.

Cain and DG exchanged looks and the princess looked back down and said gently, "What did Lylo leave with you, Kalm?"

He took a ragged breath, "A memory." Ten minutes later, they found themselves in the elder viewer's hut again, with Raw and Kalm sitting in front of a large mirror. The younger of the two was too weak to convey the image himself, so the older had volunteered to do it for him. As Cain, DG, and the rest of their group looked on, Raw placed one hand on Kalm's left temple and the other on the frame of the massive mirror. The images came quickly, somewhat blurry from years spent dwindling away in someone's mind, but they could clearly make out the form of roses. Hundreds of roses with hard, jagged petals that looked almost like stone. "The Crystal Fields," Mérca muttered under her breath at one point, before the vision changed and drew all their attentions back. Now, hovering in the glass before them was a full moon, gleaming bright and happy in the purpled night sky. Then it was over, and all DG could see was herself in the full-lengthed mirror. She licked her lips and turned to the perpétuel, "What did you say? Something about crystals?"

"Crystal Fields," Mérca corrected with a small roll of the eyes, "Its not far from here--about a day's drive, I suppose--its a field of flowers made of precious gemstones."

DG looked at Cain, barely able to squelch the blush that threatened her cheeks at just the sight of him, "Does that sound right to you?"

"Princess," he sighed, "_Nothing_, since this journey started, has sounded right. But I guess its worth a shot; we'll leave in the morning."

"Raw wants to stay," the viewer said suddenly, eyes low and shameful, "Need to be here for Kalm. Must stay."

This caught them all off guard, but seemed to hit Mérca harder than the rest--she'd grown close to the viewer since joining their caravan, and would without a doubt be bored without him. She frowned, "Raw."

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
Who doesn't own the rights to "Tin Man?" Thayne doesn't own the rights to "Tin Man!" Who, me? Yes, you! Couldn't be! Then, who? ...Just kidding... Its me.

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Kiss From A Rose," by Seal.

**Coming Up**::  
I dunno what's going to happen, but it will be to the song "Monochrome," unless I decide to do another random, lazy interlude!


	10. Change Is Hard

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Ten:: Change Is Hard  
"..._change is hard; I should know_..."

**-- -- --**

"We're not really going to let him stay, are we?" Mérca demanded, following Cain around like a starved--ironically enough--_puppy_. Her voice was hurried, urgent, laced with a level of emotion she'd never shown before. "I mean, we can't just leave him behind."

"Its what he wants," Cain said shortly. He didn't really want to be having this conversation. He just wanted to find a map, come up with a travel plan, and then get back to DG, to discuss what had happened between them. Or, _almost_ happened.

Mérca rambled on, "Damn what he wants! He's blinded by his emotions. He's a part of this group; he _needs_ to be with _us_."

The ex-tin man rolled his eyes and, having finally reached the bus, began rummaging through the glovebox, "Is that what _he_ needs, or is it what _you_ need? I know you've become close friends with Raw, but you have to understand that Kalm is his family, and he's not well. That's that." He hoped that would end it, as his fingers had just found a folded and wrinkled map of the entire O.Z.

But she would not let it go that easily. She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes back at him, "I don't even think you care. But hey, why should you? After all, nothing seems to matter to you unless its about--"

Cain spun so fast it shocked the perpétuel, and he drew his gun, pointing it at her. Through gritted teeth, he forced, "Finish that sentence and I'll see if 'nine lives' is included in the cat-package, because, once again, you have no idea what you're talking about." She drew back immediately, letting out a low hiss, curling her fingers and flexing her claws. Cain sighed and reholstered his weapon, then brushed past her to make his way back to the elder's tent, where the others still gathered. He spread the map out on the ground and began putting together a plan. They marked the quickest path to the Crystal Fields--allbeit, not the _safest_ of paths, since it led through a bandits' road--and figured that it would probably take three days to get there by bus, and not one, as Mérca had previously suggested. With the permission of the elder, they stocked up on some more food and a few extra blankets, and then settled in for a night's sleep, intent on leaving at dawn's first light. Of course, no one slept. Mérca stayed with Raw and Kalm, failing miserably in her attempts to convince him to leave the village with thim. Azkadellia and Glitch sat near the dying fire with a handful of sleepless viewers, retelling the tale of the witch's defeat...again. Jeb and Brake sat on the hood of the bus, drinking _icül_ (something that resebmled beer), the mechanic animatedly trying to describe the point of baseball. DG lay near the medical hut, inhaling the soothing scent as she stared up at the stars. They seemed to have more in the O.Z. She wondered if they all had different names--different stories--of if astronomy transcended worlds. Her thoughts were broken when Cain's voice floated to her. "Hey, k--um, _DG_--everything okay?"

"Just thinking," she answered with a nervous grin.

"Sure your mind can handle something so unfamiliar?" He asked jokingly, and she realized how much she enjoyed that rare, playful side of him. He sat down next to her with a tiny sigh and held out two goblets, "You want one of these?" One held a dark red drink--the _egarton_ she'd had before--and one held _icül_. She chose the former and took a long sip as he drank from the other. After an awkward silence, DG leaned back and requested he do the same, then she gestured up to the stars and asked him to name some constellations for her. He thought briefly before putting up his hand and outlining one carefully. "There," he told her, "That little cluster? That's called Osté--the flower that fell into the sky. Osté was the only of its kind, and treasured by the Queen of the Ancients, but one day, one of its thorns pricked her and she cast it away, and it fell to heaven. And there? Saint Elman--the brave priest. He helped nurse the solders of the Ancients back to health during the War of Darkness. And there," he pointed to one and swallowed shyly, "Kanduenas--the lovers. Their story, um," he was beginning to regret naming that particular form, "She was the daughter of a duchess, and expected to marry within the royal line, but she fell in love with a commoner. A poor farmer man. She was willing to throw everything away for him, and it made her mother furious to the point that she murdered her own daughter." He frowned and let his arm drop down to his side, "The man found out and took his own life, to be with her in the sky for all eternity."

After a pause, DG offered thoughtfully, "I don't think my mother could ever do something like that." When Cain let out a distracted little "hm," DG turned on her side to look at him, "We have to talk about it, you know, _eventually_."

He nodded, still staring up at the sky, "Yeah, I know."

When he didn't go on, she asked slowly, "Should I start?"

He sighed and licked his lips, dried from the cold air that surrounded them, "I just--I don't know, DG. I don't know what I want."

She scoffed, but not in a mean way, and said, "If you didn't know, would you have almost kissed me?"

"_You_ almost kissed _me_," he insisted.

"And if I had," she countered, "You would have pulled away? You'd have said no?"

He groaned and covered his eyes with his hand, massaging his temples, "I don't _know_."

"We can solve that right now." When he uncovered his face, she was painfully close to him, her face hovering just inches above his, lips pressing hot breath against his chin. Before he could say anything, or even _think_ anything, she leaned foreward and brushed her lips against his. It barely lasted a second before she pulled away to look at him. "And now?"

Cain ran his tongue over his bottom lip, desperately seeking some essence, some light she may have left behind. Upon finding none there, he cleared his throat and told her again, "I don't know." DG grinned to herself and brought one hand up to hold his jaw, feeling the stubble there, just as she had in her daydream. Her other hand was pressed firmly into the grass, holding her up, bracing herself above him. Slowly--too slowly--she leaned down until her lips were against his, gentle and reassuring. He was still for a moment, trying to familiarize himself. Her lips were warm and smooth, not bloodless and chapped, as Adora's had always been. She tasted sweeter, and she kissed him without limitation, unafraid to take the initiative. Slowly, at first, hesitant, he reached one arm up to drape across her waist, and then urgency took over as his arm pushed down on her pack, pressing her against him. He responded to her kiss, slanting his lips across hers, his tongue quickly moving to trace the smooth lines of her lips. Just as she opened them to him, his second arm came up across her back, hand digging into her hair, and he pulled back only long enough to flip them over so that he was above her, one hand trapped between her head and the ground, the other supporting his weight so that he didn't crush her. That was the only rational thought he had before his mouth was on hers again. Once again, his tongue traced over her lips and she opened them for him, pressing her own to his in a timeless duel of passions, eliciting a low moan from her. This egged him on, and he bent his bracing elbow a bit, allowing his body to brush against hers, earning another whimper as she arched her back, molding herself more tightly to him, trying to become a part of him. She'd never felt this alive before; this exhilirated. It was like being drunk, but with the use of all five senses and a clear knowledge of everything that was happening to her. She explored his mouth further, trying to memorize his taste; he tasted of stale beer and strawberries. Bitter and sweet--it seemed fitting. Her hands took on a life of their own, sliding up his chest until they reached the buttons of his shirt. He was in his sleep clothes (just a dress-shirt and pants), and she vaguely realized how easy it would be to make flesh-on-flesh contact with him. Before she could get her stubbornly shaky hands to undo even one button--one _lousy_ button, for one single bit of skin--he'd pulled away and was now looking down at her with sad, foggy blue eyes. She searched them with her own, certainly sparkling with want.

"Wyatt?" Her voice was low and husky, and this, combined with the effortless use of his first name, almost broke his new and weakly-formed resolve.

He gathered his control and let out a deep breath, closing his eyes, "We can't do this, DG."

"Wh-what?" Her voice was suddenly full of fear and self-doubt, "Did I--I mean, am I--"

"You're _perfect_," he told her forcefully. "Its just me--I'm used to things being a certain way and this..." he trailed off, gesturing between them lamely, "I don't know what to do with this right now. I'm not prepared."

"I don't fit," DG broke it down in a knowing, quiet voice, her eyes staring past him at a patch of sky. Looking as if she might cry, she pushed him off of her and sat up, pulling a strand of grass from her hair.

He sighed and sat up as well, not knowing what to say, not knowing what to tell her to make the hurt and disappointment go away. So he told her, "It wouldn't be appropriate."

Her sadness turned to anger as quick as flipping a switch and she scoffed, "I don't give a _damn_ about what's appropriate, _Mister Cain_," the two words dripped from her tongue like acid. "And if you had any _real_ feelings for me at all, you wouldn't either." It was an ultimatum: it said, "tell me now or never have me again." He recognized it, and his whole body screamed for him to speak up. But his throat was dry and his lips were numb and purpled from kissing, and he couldn't speak. She saw this and shook her head, tears apparant now, streaming down her cheeks, and told him, "Then that's your decision. Goodnight," her voice cracked a little, "Mister Cain." Then she stood and walked away, headed for the bus. As she entered, her sniffled and choking hiccups alerted the two men on the hood, and they followed her in. She shouted something and there was a loud clang and a flash of bright light, followed by the reappearance of the men. Two brave, inventive men, faces blanketed with fear of one pissed-off princess.

Cain drew in a shaky breath and buried his head in his hands, more than aware that he'd quite possible just ruined everything. His mind still defended his descision to abstain, but everything else in him was still focused on the taste her lips had left against his.

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
No glove, no love. No dough, no show.

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Change Is Hard," by Zooey Deschanel.

**Special Note**::  
Mm...sexy and sad interlude. Sorry.


	11. Three Libras

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Eleven:: Three Libras  
"..._here I am expecting just a little bit too much from the wounded, but I see--see through it all--I see through; I see you_..."

**-- -- --**

The way the others avoided Cain and DG the next morning was almost comical. Without saying anything, the two just seemed to radiate a "speak to me and die" vibe that struck anyone that came within ten feet of them. When they finally borded the bus to depart the village, Cain took a seat in the very back while DG opted for the very front, behind Brake. They both stared absently out their windows and shot warning looks when anyone started to speak to them or attempt to sit next to them. After they'd been on the road for nearly an hour, Mérca hopped over a few seats to sit next to Glitch, who sat behind Jeb and Azkadellia. The perpétuel leaned forward and asked them, "Trouble in paradise, you suppose? Seems to be a regular thing around here."

Jeb seemed to ignore her, but turned his head to ask the princess thoughtfully, "Azkadellia, what do you suppose happens to a cat when it's thrown from a moving vehicle?"

"Well, Jeb," she said back in a matching thoughtful tone, "I _suppose_ it gets scraped up by chefs and served as dinner in the royal palace." She made a face, "Awful food. I mean, I haven't had it since before--you know--but I still can't get that disgusting taste out of my mouth." Glitch covered his mouth to keep in the fit of cute giggles to which he was so famous for and Mérca snarled at all of them before moving back to her old seat.

Behind the driver's seat, DG was busy flipping through Brake's cassette tapes until she finally found one she liked. But something wasn't right. "Brake," she spoke her first words of the day quietly, shortly, "If you haven't been back to the Other Side in fifteen years, how do you have this tape?" She held it out to him.

He didn't even look at it, "You'd be amazed how often Storms dump stuff around the Outer Zone. I mean, did you really think that asprin would have lasted all that time?" He looked over his shoulder, "You wanna listen to that one?" She nodded and handed it to him, and then the depressing melodies floated through the speakers. She leaned back against her seat and closed her eyes, one particular song working her tearducts until she couldn't hold it back anymore, and tears began running down her cheeks. _'Cause I threw you the obvious to see what occurs behind the eyes of a fallen angel; eyes of a tragedy. Oh well, oh well--apparently nothing. Apparently nothing at all. You don't, you don't, you don't see me._ Her little session was interrupted when, from the back of the bus, a gruff voice barked, "That sounds like a dog dying; turn it off."

DG wiped her face and turned in her chair, calling over her shoulder, "Can it, tin man. No one asked your opinion." He was about to snap back when he saw that little glimmer in her eyes that told him she'd been crying, and he bit back his remark, clenching his teeth and looking away. DG turned back around and leaned her head against her window right as Brake hit a dip in the head, causing her head to swing back and then to the side again, cracking against the window. She let out a hiss of pain and held her head, feeling a small cut there, blood pooling and dripping into her hair. Jeb was at her side in an instant, pulling her hair back and running his hand over the cut. When he'd determined that it was small and would stop bleeding soon, he gave her two asprin from Brake's stash and then took his jacket off, rolling it up and holding it up to the window. DG forced a small grin and thanked him, leaning her head against it. He nodded at her and then retook his seat next to the other princess, where the conversation had turned to the sad observation that Cain, who came running at a hangnail, hadn't moved when DG's head hit the metal. Azkadellia's eyes were soft with worry, while Glitch's seemed to be filling with rage.

"This is stupid," he told them, "This is stupid. This is stupid. This is--"

"Glitch," Az reached over the back of the seat to nudge his shoulder.

"Stupid," he continued, now on track, "So what now? He's going to let her get hurt all because he's too wrapped up in himself? He'd let her _die_?" His fists clenched and unclenched over and over again, "This is all so stupid."

"He'll come around," Jeb insisted, "Just give him some time."

"Your father is a stubborn man," Glitch informed the younger Cain, "And we don't _have_ that kind of time."

Azkadellia stood and circled the seat to settle in next to the zipperhead, putting a soothing hand on his shoulder, "Hey," she whispered sweetly, calmly. "Calm down, okay? This is one of things we all just have to let happen."

Immediately, and without even meaning to, Glitch's whole body relaxed and the anger that clouded his mind was gone. He turned his head slightly to look at her and then looked away, muttering a shy, "Okay," before the conversation moved back to Outer Zone sports, at which they all laughed.

After a lunch break that consisted of sandwiches on hard bread and stale beans, they got back on the bus and started the next few hours of their journey. They'd been driving for a while when Mérca perched on her hands and feet in the empty space next to Cain. She cocked her head at him, making her look even more like a feline than she already did, and she grinned, "So look who finally got off the leash."

He sighed disinterestedly, but asked, "Ex_cuse_ me?"

"You didn't come running when the princess got a boo-boo; that's a big step." She nudged his leg with her foot, "Soon, you'll be selling her to bandits and feeding her to bears." Fed up, Cain caught the foot that touched him and yanked it, pulling her legs from under her and sending her flying from the side of the seat. Her body twisted in an odd fashion before she landed on her hands and feet, shaking a little. She glanced over her shoulder at him before curling up in a seat near the front for a nap.

DG still had Jeb's coat, and she wedged it again between her head and the window, listening to the same song on the cassette tape, insisting Brake rewind and replay. _Difficult not to feel just a little bit disappointed and passed over._ The line stuck out in her mind, more than it had the first time she'd heard it, almost four years before. She played it over and over again in her head as hours past, and soon they were stopping for the night. While all the others went out to start a fire and prepare dinner, she stayed behind, still looping the lyrics, still thinking. Finally, she reached a decision, knowing Cain was too stubborn and indecisive to do so, and she stood, draping Jeb's jacket over her arm. She went out to the fire and gave the coat back to its rightful owner, apologizing for the blood stain, and then grabbed Cain by the shoulder, pulling him up and dragging him off a ways until they were out of ear and eyeshot of the group.

He wouldn't even look at her, but it didn't stop the speech she had ready for him. "Look," she said tiredly, "I don't like this. I don't like the fact that you can't suck it up and admit that you really _do_ want to be with me. I don't like the fact that you act like you don't care about me on a personal level. But more than that, I _really_ don't like the fact that we can't act like civilized adults about this whole thing. I mean, look at this," she gestured around aimlessly, "We can't cross glances. We _definitely_ can't speak to each other. Its ridiculous, Cain, and you know it." He still didn't look at her or say anything; he didn't even look like he was thinking anything. DG rolled her eyes and snapped, "Dammit, if you don't say anything, I'm going to assume that you hate me and you're going to try and kill me in my sleep. Wyatt, say somethi--" She was cut off when his lips crashed against hers, his arms coming around her waist to pull her closer to him. It was a hard, fevered kiss that only last a moment before he pulled away, resting his forehead against hers.

"Again," he said huskily.

His voice sent shockwaves through her and her mind almost overloaded, and she found herself barely able to form coherent thought. Finally, she managed, "Again, what?"

"My name," he whispered roughly, "Say it again."

"Wyatt--" she started, only to be cut off again by his lips. He pushed her back a little so that her back was pressed against the trunk of a large tree, and he ran his hands up and down her sides, kissing her so strongly it almost scared him. DG returned the kiss with as much force as he put out, this time being the first to trace his lips with her tongue, inviting his into her mouth, twining together restlessly. Her hands had been on his shoulders, but now traced down his chest and stopped at the warm muscles of his stomach, burning through his shirt and vest. She felt his abs twitch a little, and a growl rumbled in his chest.

This time, she pulled back, "Wait, wait. Hey, no," she pushed at him when his lips zoned in on hers again. When he stared down at her with worried eyes, she shook her head and chuckled smally, "You keep sending all these mixed messages and you could really hurt a girl."

His face turned sad and he sighed, pulling her tight against him, burying his face against her hair. "The last thing I want to do is hurt you," he said into her ear, "But this is all very complicated for me. Can't you understand that?"

She nodded slowly, and pushed him back so that she could look him in the eye, "Well, that's all you had to say." They exchanged tiny smiles before DG's face became serious again and her voice shook as she asked, "Promise me you're not going to slam the door on this before we have a chance to really talk."

He nodded, running a hand through her dark curls, "I promise."

After a pause, she suddenly smiled and told him, "Know what?"

"What?"

"I'm _starving_."

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
When I say "Hillshire," you say "Farm." Hillshire! (Farm!) GO MEAT! ...And also, I don't own "Tin Man" ... or Hillshire Farm.

**Inspiration**::  
This song was inspired by the song "Three Libras," by A Perfect Circle.

**Special Note**::  
My mutual stalker (I stalk her; she stalks me) kept having arguements with herself over whether or not to hate me, so I figured I'd give her something to love me for!


	12. Sing Along

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Twelve:: Sing Along  
"..._man slew the bison, and he built a thieves' road that pass over tel aviv-jaffa and lead to the mother lode_..."

**-- -- --**

Cain followed DG through the brush, toward the glow of the campfire, his eyes wide and in disbelief of what he'd just done; what he'd just said. He'd kissed her with all his strength and all his passion, and she'd matched him, flame for flame. He'd told her that he didn't have it all figured out just yet, and she'd accepted it gracefully. She'd asked him not to count her out, and he swore he never would. How had it all happened? How had he gone from indifference toward this girl, to commradory, to protection, to friendship, to whatever this was now? This unyielding attraction? Just as they were about the reenter the clearing, he found himself reaching out for her, tugging her behind a tree. She looked up at him expectantly, and he knew she wanted more of what they'd shared just moments before, but it wasn't the first thing on his mind. No, that was a lie. It _was_ the first thing on his mind, but he had enough self-control left to bring a more urgent matter to the surface.

"I think--" he almost laughed when her face fell at the realization that this was going to be a talking thing and not a physical thing. He had enough sense to keep his amusement in, however, and at the same time struggled to squash the urge to capture her pouting lips with his own. He took a moment to collect himself before continuing, "I think we ought to keep this under our hats for a while." She opened her mouth to protest, but he put a hand up to stop her, "No, wait. Now, before you go off on another tyrant--no matter how much I enjoyed the end-result of the last one--just try to see where I'm coming from: we haven't got this figured out yet. Its new and," he struggled to find the word, "_Different_, and we have no idea what any of this mean. We can't just go around carelessly like we're--"

"I don't have a hat," DG cut him off, and of all the things he'd expected her to say, that was not one of them.

He was startled into laughter, "What?"

"You said," her eyes moved upward to look at him, a little grin tugging at the edge of her lips, "'Keep this under our hats.' I don't have one."

The urge to abandon all thoughts and words and grab her, kiss her until he didn't have a breath left in his body, was overwhelming, and he literally felt his muscles quake at his mind's instruction otherwise. He brought a slow hand up to his head, a little scared to find his fingers shaking so visibly, and he took hold of his hat, sweeping it off to lower it to her skull, "There ya' go. Now, what do you say?"

"...Thank you?"

He rolled his eyes, "I mean, about keeping this a secret."

"Oh, that," she chewed on her bottom lip, aimlessly running one finger back and forth over the brim of the hat, having no idea what kind of effect the simple motion was having on the man that stood before her. "Well, as long as I get you in the long run, I suppose I could tolerate a little secrecy. In fact...it could be fun."

A gave a small chuckle, slightly breathless, still fighting--mind against body--to keep at least a foot of distance between their lips, "You think so?"

"Mhm." She looked up, a devilish look in her eye that surprised him, and she took his hat off, replacing it on his head, "What? You don't?" That little twinkle remained in his vision, even as she turned and walked away from him, a loud greeting leaving her lips as she spotted the rest of their group. Cain stayed behind for a little while, trying to figure if his situation had become better or worse. Before, not having her was the thing that tortured him and she didn't even know it. Now, she knew how to drive him crazy.

--

"_Just a small town girl, livin' in a lonely world--she took the midnight train goin' anywhere_," DG hummed to herself as she dragged a bit of black charcoal over the canvas paper she'd dug out of her napsack. She hated Journey, but the song had somehow worked its way into her nice dreams the night before, and had been stuck in her head since she woke. "_Just a city boy, born and raised in South Detroit--he took the midnight train goin' anywhere._" She was sideways in her seat, carefully sketching Azkadellia and Glitch, who'd fallen asleep against each other like two children would, tangled together with mouths wide open and noses wrinkled in heavy, unpredictable snores and snortles. Still, they were cute, and DG wondered if there might be something between them. At the same time, she knew Az had a strong attraction toward Brake, and now that the younger princess's relationship issues weren't as bad, she looked forward to watching her sisters' pan out. She'd just finished their basic sketches and was going back in to add more detail, "_A singer in a smokey room, a smell of wine and cheap perfume; for a smile, they can share the night_." She was lucky she'd lifted her drawing hand to scratch her nose when a hand fell to her shoulder, because she jumped so high that it would have surely ruined her entire sketch. Instead, all it did was cause her to draw a dark black mark from the bridge of her nose to her bottom lip.

She tilted her head back to glare up at Cain, who was leaned over her seat, lips pressed tightly together to hold in his laughter. She rolled her eyes, "So, how pretty do I look right now?"

He bit back his initial comment--the one in which he called her beautiful no matter what--for fear that the others would hear, and instead grinned and said, "You look like a Guild Fighter, with your face all painted up like that." She wrinkled her nose and stuck her tongue out at him, and as much as he still didn't understand the gesture, he couldn't get over the new knowledge he had of what the muscle in question could do against his when they kissed. He took a deep breath and reached out to wipe the coal from her face, to which she smiled and thanked him, trying not to be too obvious in her desire to climb over the seat and jump him. It was strange, because she'd never been one of those girls who had overwhelming sexual desires, even when she _was_ dating a guy, but ever since that first kiss with Cain, all she wanted was to be close to him. Oh, hell, who was she kidding? That's all she'd wanted since she _met_ him, dirtied brown beard and all. He seemed to sense what she was feeling and he cleared his throat, turning his head to look down at the drawing, "You did that?"

"What?" She looked down, "Oh, that," she looked back up and shook her head seriously, "No." He almost believed her for a second, before that familiar twinkle in her eye gave her away.

He gave a bark of laughter, "Sarcasm is definitely your strongpoint." She was about to deliver and smooth and snippy comeback when the bus jerked and slid a little, then Brake shouted for everyone to hold on as they skidded to a hault. Cain used both hands to grab DG's shoulders, keeping her in place, while Azkadellia and Glitch were thrown forward, waking when they hit the seat in front of them and Glitch immediately roped two protective arms around the princess next to him, pulling her close to him. Jeb was bracing himself with his arms straight out in front of him, and Mérca's claws were length-deep into the cushion of her seat to steady her. Brake finally got the vehicle to a complete stop and looked over his shoulder, breathing deeply, slightly panicked, "Everyone okay?"

"Good," Cain answered for himself and DG.

"Good," his son echoed.

"Busted lip here," Glitch reported, holding Az's chin between his thumb and forefinger, examining the cut like a doctor, "But otherwise, fine."

Brake nodded, then called out, "Mér?"

Mérca yanked her shaking hands out of the seat stuffing and asked, with wide eyes, "What in the _hell_ was that?"

The driver shook his head, "I'm not sure. Could've run over something, but I highly doubt it; if something was big enough to pop one of my tires, I should have been able to see it ahead of time. I'll go check." He started to stand and go for the door when something crashed through the window and Cain told him to drop, which he did, flattening himself out on the floor and crawling toward them. Per the ex-tin man's instruction, everyone was ducked down in front of their seats (Glitch completely covering Az, which DG made a note to remember later), while Cain drew his gun and looked through the window carefully. A moment later, he ducked back down and muttered, "Jeez."

"What is it?" His son wanted to know. When the answer didn't come, he said, "Father? Bandits?"

Cain nodded gravely, "Of the eastern colours." Jeb's eye widened slightly and then he nodded, as if he understood how trying this would be, and the expression was pasted to everyone else's face but DG's. She was out of the loop. When Brake saw her confusion, he explained, "Eastern bandits are the worst kind. It doesn't matter if they get something from you or not; they'll kill you either way, just out of boredom."

When the princess's face scrunched up in worry, Cain shot a quick "shut up" look to Brake and told her, "That's not gonna happen, though. Jeb," he jerked his head to the door, and his son nodded, crawling in that direction. "Mérca," he glanced up at the skylight in the ceiling, and she bit her lip before nodding, moving to crouch on the floor directly below it. Finally, Cain looked to the driver, "Any tools you have, get 'em, because you're goin' out with us. Zipperhead, watch the princesses."

"Cain," DG insisted, "I'm going out there with you."

"No, you're not," he said simply, and there was a finality in his voice that stopped her from arguing; a rare thing indeed. Slowly, he made his way to the backdoor with Brake, and DG peeked out the window to see what had gotten them all in such a panic, which rewarded her with a sight that almost made her cry out. There were only a handful of them--ten, maybe, or fifteen--but they were all visibly strong and barely looked human. Their faces were hard and contorted into sickeningly malicious expressions, and they wore clothes that would have scared any gang on the Other Side. Even if they hadn't been holding the torturous-looking tools grasped tightly in their belted fists, they still would have been enough to send the princess running. And this princess _never_ ran.

"Deej," Cain whispered from the back door, unaware of his own use of her nickname, "Since you're looking: mind telling us where they all are?"

She blushed a little and nodded, "Um, about four on Jeb's side, a couple more than that circling around, and the rest are right in your area. Cain," her voice shook a little, "They look like they mean business."

"They do," he replied grimly. "Just stay down; we'll take care of it." He looked at Brake, then to his son and Mérca, "On three. One...two..._three_!" He and Brake pushed open the back door at the same time as Jeb pushed through the main and the perpétuel leapt up through the skylight, and all DG could hear from her curled up position under her seat was punching and yelling and gunshots and laughing. Laughing? These guys were _sick_.

It went on for a while, and across the aisle, Glitch still had Azkadellia tucked safely in his arms as he shot DG looks of assurance and patience, telling her not to do anything; just obey Cain. She succeeded for longer than she thought she would; that is, before she heard Cain let out a loud roar of pain, followed by a low groan from Jeb and a yelp from Brake. They had them all. No, wait; Mérca. Where was Mérca? Carefully, DG uncurled slightly and looked out from under her seat to find that she could see Cain from the opened back door. One of the bandits--who now sported a bleeding head and shoulder--had a hold of him, a knife to his throat. The offender cracked a smug grin and called out, "Whoever's left on the bus better file out and cough up the goods before your buddy here loses his head." When no one moved, the man ordered another one of his crew to board the bus. As the footsteps drew closer to where they hid, DG took in a deep breath and pushed herself out from under her seat and stood with a brave expression, though she was quaking on the inside.

"Well, well, well," it was a female bandit who grabbed hold of DG's hair and pulled her off the bus, pushing her forward so that she fell in front of who she now assumed was the leader. He stared down at her, bearing his teeth in a sickening smile, the knife pressing a little closer to Cain's throat. Cain, himself, looked almost oblivious to the weapon, but instead only had concern for the princess before him. The bandit leader spoke then, "Hello, there, Pretty; we haven't found something like you in a while."

DG moved so that she was on her knees, rising up as tall as she could, trying to speak in an even, cool way, "Something like _what_?"

"So sweet," he said with mock-gentleness. "Some of my boys like their girls real sweet, but we don't get a lot of that around here."

"Boss," another man interrupted, coming around the side of the bus with Mérca in a tight hold, "She took out five of the guys, but I got 'er."

"Five? Who?" When the second man recited the names, the boss's face twisted with anger and he narrowed his eyes at the woman in question, "Kill her." The second man yanked a gun from the waistband of his pants and pointed it at her head before her eyes widened and she yelled, "Wait! Wait, no, wait!" The man ignored her, the hammer of the gun clicking, and she cried out, "Azkadellia is on the bus."

The boss held up his free hand to stop the man from shooting, and one of his eyebrows rose so high that it almost reached his hairline, "_Princess_ Azkadellia?"

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
Own not do I.

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Sing Along," by Grant Lee Buffalo.

**Note**::  
I meant to make this longer, but I ran out of enery. No caffiene, ALL DAY! So, sorry--do you love me anyways?


	13. I Want To Save You

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Thirteen:: I Want To Save You  
"..._I wanna save you--I need you to save me, too_..."

**-- -- --**

DG's eyes widened as the man that held Mérca let her go and started back for the bus, and she leapt to her feet, "No!" She started to run for him when the woman who'd found her grabbed her, arms under hers and over her shoulders, barring her struggles. "Don't touch her; don't you _dare_ touch her! Az, run!" As the man drew close to them, one of Glitch's legs shot out, tripping him. The zipperhead stood and kicked him once, twice, three times in the gut before the man dropped his gun and curled slightly. Another of the crew ran forward, taking several punches from the protector before delivering a harsh one of his own, knocking Glitch to the ground, unconscious. When his pale face came into view, Azkadellia let out a scream and was soon captured by the bandit, who dragged her along like a sobbing paper doll. The first man dragged the knocked-out zipperhead out and tossed him carelessly to the ground before rebrandishing his pistol and pointing it at the older princess.

"Hold your fire," the leader commanded with a devilish smile. He looked at DG, "She's important to you," it was an observation, not a question, so she said nothing. Then, he looked down at Cain, "So is he." Her eyes widened then, only slightly, but enough for him to see and know that his ploy was working. "I want you to choose," he said, pressing the knife closer to Cain's throat as the other man pressed the barrel of his gun into Az's temple, "Who to save." DG's eyes immediately filled with unfallen tears as she looked from Azkadellia to Cain and back to Azkadellia again. Beyond her sister, she could see Mérca's shrunken form staring back at her, but all her pleading looks only made the perpétuel shake her head helplessly and retreat. Brake and Jeb were nowhere to be found, but from the sounds earlier, she assumed they'd been knocked down somewhere and were in no better condition than Glitch. It was just her. She had to choose, but she couldn't.

_Azkadellia_. A voice in her mind whispered to her, telling her that she had to save her sister; it told her that without Az, there was no way they could truly restore the O.Z., and they needed her. But _Cain_, another voice told her, reminding her of the only man she'd ever had true, deep feelings for, and she doubted she'd ever meet another like him. If she could only use her magick, maybe she could... That was it. She formulated the plan quickly in her mind, but realized all at once that there would be many risks. What if she couldn't get to her sister in time? What if it didn't work the way she thought it would? She turned her sad eyes on Cain, deep blue and apologetic, and he simply blinked heavily at her, telling her it was okay, and he'd forgive her, and it was almost enough to bring her to full tears. Instead, she took a deep breath and the woman who held her smirked and let her go, then the princess ran for her sister, skidding a little and shouldering the man who held her with the full force of her body. He stumbled backwards and DG no longer took him--or his gun--into account. She dropped down to the ground and grabbed her sister's hand just as the leader was about to start dragging the blade along Cain's throat. Light formed around them, and DG quickly redirected it, pulling at the man's arm, causing the knife to cut from the base of Cain's jaw, up to his cheekbone. The ex-tin man jerked his head to the side, wincing in pain, but able to roll away from his captor. Then, the man lunged at him again, the knife scraping the cloth and skin that covered his heart, and DG redirected again, the blade sinking, instead, almost an inch deep into his side. Cain let out a loud cry and used his feet to push the man away, kicking his squarely in the chest. Before Azkadellia could form a true plan, she'd let go of her sister's hand and punched the man who stood behind them, jerking the gun from his hand as he fell and turning swiftly, firing off two shots without thinking, both piercing through the leader as he charged for Cain again. One hit his chest while the other barrelled through his gut, and he fell.

"Boss!" The woman who'd held DG ran to his side, grasping frantically for a pulse, but found none. When she shook her head at the others, they glanced around nervously and retreated, unsure of what to do without their fearless leader. DG didn't wait a single second before she rushed to Cain's side, pressing one hand firmly against the wound at his side, repeating over and over again, "Are you okay? Cain? How bad is it?"

"I've--_ow_," he said it more like a statement than a cry of pain, looking up at her with a furrowed brow, "Had worse--stop _doing_ that."

"I can't," she half-asserted, half-whimpered, "Its bleeding." She looked up at Azkadellia, who was helping a newly-conscious Glitch to his feet, "Go find Brake and Jeb," she instructed, "Make sure they're okay."

Just as Az was about to reply, Mérca's head reappeared from behind the bus, "They're over here. They're both out cold, but they're okay."

DG looked up with blazing eyes and her voice shook with anger, "You," she said slowly, carefully, acid dripping over every syllable, "Do not get to speak to me. You just stay the hell away from me, and keep your mouth _shut_." Guilt was clear in the perpétuel's eyes, but the princess didn't care. She just stared until the woman walked away, and Az helped Glitch into a sitting position in the bus before she went to find the others. DG then looked back down to Cain, whose face was scrunched up in pain. She sighed and began unfastening his holster, then unbuttoned his vest and started to do the same for his shirt when his hand stopped her. "What're you doing?" He mumbled, eyes wide.

"I have to take your shirt off so that I can get to the cut," she told him easily, as if it should be obvious. He sighed and leaned his head back against the ground as she continued, slipping his shirt off in a careful, business-like manner, and he wondered if the flesh-to-flesh contact was having as much of an effect on her as it was on him. When he looked back up, she was studying the wound seriously, worriedly, and he realized all at once that whatever they had between them wasn't just a whim; it was real. She really cared about him.

Az rounded the bus again and told her sister, "They were knocked out and tied up. I untied the ropes, but they're still not awake yet."

DG looked up and nodded, "Okay. Az, I need you to look around on the bus and see if you can find a medical kit. But one of Brake's; not one of ours." Her sister disappeared into the bus, flinging open every compartment until she found what she was looking for, and then brought the little white box back to her little sister, who took it and flipping it open. It was filled with things Az didn't recognize, but DG seemed completely familiar with them, choosing a little brown bottle and twisting the cap open. She looked down at the ex-tin man with sad eyes, "This is going to sting a little bit." She poured the liquid over his cut and the older princess audibly gasped when it turned white and bubbly. DG poured it again and again until it no longer bubbled, and then tore open a little square package that held a needle, connected to a long strip of black wire. She apologized over and over again, explaining that, while she'd seen this done quite a few times, she'd never done it herself and it needed to be done. She then proceeded to pushed the needle through Cain's skin, repeating the motion until the lesion was completely sewn up. When she was done, she uncapped a tube of thick goo and smeared the medicine over the stitches before covering it all with a guaze pad and taping it down. She then moved on to the cut on his face, which only required a little of the bubbling liquid and the goo. By the time she'd finished, Jeb had regained consciousness and half-crawled over to them, looking over his father with concerned and almost tearful eyes. DG assured him he'd be fine, and it wasn't that bad, and then they helped him to the bus, careful not to rip his stitches. When everyone was settled in, DG and Jeb went out for Brake, just to find Mérca sitting next to him, as if protecting him while waiting for the others to retrieve him. The princess's eyes never left the woman as she and the younger Cain lifted the unconscious man and carried him onto the bus, dropping him in a seat near the front.

DG turned and looked around, "Okay, so who knows where we're going and is well enough to drive?"

"What about Mérca?" Glitch asked, "We can't just leave her."

"Wanna bet?" DG said shortly.

Jeb sighed, "She's a strong fighter; we could really use having her around."

When DG opened her mouth to protest, Az interjected, "Deej, I know that you're angry, and you have every right to be, but we _do_ kind of need her."

She was quiet for a moment, considering, before, "Fine," she walked to the door and crossed her arms, looking at the woman in question, who stared back at her almost pleadingly. In an even voice, she told her, "I'm going to let you stay because everyone else thinks you're useful to have around. I don't agree. I think you're a coward who tries to talk a big game, but I'm not going to throw a tantrum over it. So here's the deal: you can stay with us, but you'd better sit in the back with your mouth shut for the rest of the trip. And if anyone--_anyone_--so much as gets a skinned knee when you could have prevented it, I'll put you down myself. Understand?" She felt like Cain, when they'd caught Tutor dropping the disks for the mobats to find, and she now knew the anger he'd held that day. Mérca nodded slowly, carefully, and waited for the princess to get inside and seated before she entered, quickly making her way to the back and curling up on a seat.

From there, Jeb drove for a few hours--despite protests from Brake, when he woke, insisting he was able to navigate--and DG sat next to Cain the entire time, asking him how he felt every ten minutes or so. At first, he thought it was cute, her concern for him, but then it started to get annoying and he feigned sleep just to keep her from repeating the question. When they stopped to sleep for the night, they all opted for the bus, all a little fearful that they might be attacked again. A little after midnight, everyone was fast asleep--everyone, that is, but DG, who sat next to Cain. His arms were cross over his chest, his head rested on the girl's shoulder, and she just stared down at him, one hand playing with the soft hair on the back of his neck. She barely noticed when he inhaled deeply and his eyes fluttered open, turning up to meet hers. "Hey," he said quietly, "What's wrong?"

It was then that she realized a few tears had escaped her eyes and she quickly wiped them away with her free hand, "You could have been killed."

He nodded and sat up, wincing, but only a little, "Its almost always a possibility."

"You could have been killed because of _me_."

He laughed a little and said lightly, "Once again: its almost always a possibility." He gave her one of those charming little smiles he saved especially for her, but it only seemed to make her tears come swifter.

"Don't," she whispered, turning away so that he wouldn't have to see that weakness in her, "Don't do that. Don't joke with me; not now. Not about this. If I hadn't put myself in the middle of everything--"

"Then you'd be burying a sister," he interrupted insistently, "And they would have killed the rest of us anyway. When you think about it, you probably saved all of our lives; we ought to be singin' your praises."

"Says the man with two stab-wounds."

"Says the girl who redirected them, saving my life," he countered.

"Cain--" she started tiredly.

But he interrupted her again, "Kid, if you don't shut up about this..." he dropped his voice to a bare whisper, in case anyone had awaken during their discussion, "I'll never kiss you again." Her mouth snapped shut quickly, almost comically, and he laughed quietly, "There. That's better. And hey, at least something good came of this."

"Oh yeah?" Desire had somehow, once again, ripped through her body and she didn't want to hear him talk anymore. She didn't want anyone else to be around. She wanted it to be just him and her, and she didn't want to worry about hurting that pesky cut on his beautiful torso. But still, she said, "What's that?"

"Mérca was wrong."

"What do you mean?"

He smiled slightly, warmly, "You saved me." Unable to control herself, she leaned forward and pressed her lips against his quickly, drawing back quickly, knowing he didn't want to get caught. When she pulled back, however, his lips came with her and he uncrossed his arms, letting one hand rest against her stomach as he kissed her back, sweetly, gently, but with an unexpected level of passion. It was one of those rare kisses that said everything, making it unnecessary to hear the words spoken. It was a thank you for saving his life, an admiration for saving everyone else in the process, a respect for letting Mérca stay, even after what she did, and an adoration for just being herself. For being DG. He kissed her slowly, never breaking the barrier of her lips, but it was enough to leave her completely satisfied when he pulled away, and he resumed his previous position, falling asleep against her once again. She smiled to herself before resting her cheek against the top of his head and letting her dreams take her as well.

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
Seriously, I'm running out of cute things to say. I don't own it!

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "I Want To Save You," by Something Corporate.

**Special Note**::  
-puts on cape- Super-fluff, AWAY!


	14. Asleep

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Fourteen:: Asleep  
"..._sing me to sleep, sing me to sleep--I don't want to wake up on my own anymore_..."

**-- -- --**

The next day, Jeb drove again and they were stopped for a lunch break. As the others ate, DG sat next to Cain, her hand skimming lightly over his bare chest, untaping the guaze that covered his wound and pulling it back. The flesh around it was pink, which was good, and the stitches hadn't popped when the man insisted he was fine enough to gather firewood. She ran her index finger over the wire and asked, "How does it feel?"

"Better. You _really_ don't have to use that stuff again," he added in a growl when she began twisting off the cap of the brown bottle.

She rolled her eyes, "Yes, I do. You see the pink around the cut? That's a good sign; it means its healing. If I don't put the peroxide on it, its going to turn yellow, and that's a _bad_ sign; it means you've got an infection and we have to..." she shrugged, pouring the liquid, "Amputate your ribs, or something." When the cold, stinging medicine hit the stitches--bubbling only a little--the ex-tin man let out a little hiss and DG couldn't help but laugh, "What? The getting stabbed part didn't hurt you, but the healing does?" He grumled some aimless response and she laughed again, recapping the bottle and putting a fresh bandage on him before allowing him to button his shirt back up. The day before, she'd been so desperate to stitch him up that she hadn't thought to admire his body, but she didn't make that mistake again. As much as she could with everyone else around them, she let her eyes trail over the alabastor skin, the numerous scars from battles past, the gold-blonde hair that ran from his collarbones, down his chest, over his well-sculpted abs, and down below the waistline of his jeans, to a place her mind couldn't even begin to think about without shorting out. She cleared her throat, which had become dry and rough, and turned away to take an apple from the food basket they'd brought from the bus, trying to pull her mind out of the gutter.

"According to the map, we're here," Brake's voice came suddenly, loud and informative, as he stabbed at the paper with his index finger. "And we need to be here," he stabbed at another location, "So, we ought to be at the Crystal Fields by midmorning tomorrow."

"Good," Azkadellia let out a sigh of relief, "I hope that its the last clue; I'm ready for this whole thing to be over now."

"Hear, hear," Glitch agreed, then held up a forkful of whatever it was he was eating. Az smiled a thank you and took the bite, chewing and swallowing thoughtfully, the grin never leaving her face. DG wondered when they'd fallen for each other, and how, and why. Glitch and Azkadellia--the _real_ Azkadellia--were very similar, both careful and overanalytical, but both always smiling, with bigger hearts than anyone she'd ever met. Still, she never expected this particular union. She almost laughed at that thought; after all, who could have predicted DG and Cain?

After lunch, they packed up and Brake retook his rightful place as busdriver. Hours later, when they stopped for the night, they all unpiled to stretch their legs and a warm breeze blew through, chasing away the cold that had become so common on their journey. It was Jeb who suggested they sleep outside, though no one opposed the thought, and they set up their tents and made a fire. Dinner conversation was light and meaningless, as if they all had things too important on their mind to discuss, so they tried to stay as far away from seriousness as possible, just in case. When they'd finished eating, they all went to their respectable shelters and settled in for sleep, but DG's mind kept her awake, thinking about many things at once, and she almost let out a scream when she saw a shadow moving outside, silhouetted by the glow of the dying fire. Cautiously, she crawled on her knees and peeked through the flap in her tent and sighed when she saw that it was just Cain, sitting in front of the flame, drinking from a large bottle of liquor they'd taken when they left the viewers. The girl quietly left her tent and walked over to him, speaking in a low voice, "You should be resting."

He held up one arm, reaching out for her, "I am resting," he insisted. She sighed and rolled her eyes, but sat down next to him anyway, letting him wrap the arm around her shoulders. They didn't speak, then, for a long while; just passed the bottle back and forth until the drink was gone, and then DG took the man's now-free hand, turning it over with her own, running her fingers over its many veins and scars and callouses. "Hm," he mumbled after some minutes of this, and she looked up to see his head leaned back, eyes shut, a small grin on his face. She let her head rest back as it had been, with her forehead fitted into the crook of his neck as he grunted, "Tickles."

She gave a small smile before her mind wandered back to Az and Glitch, and her wonderings on how they'd come together. At the thought, she asked slowly, "Hey, Wyatt--what do you like about me?"

He grinned and let out a little laugh, "You want the list?"

"No--I mean, what initially attracted you to me?"

He sighed and his eyes fluttered open, brow furrowed, not really wanting to have the feelings-talk, "Oh, I dunno. Deej, I'm tired."

"Please?"

The pleading and self-conscious tone to her voice struck a cord in him that shook through his entire body, like holding down the lowest key of a piano, and he submitted, as he always did when it came to her, "Fine." He thought for a brief moment, "I suppose it was the fact that you..._defied_ me. You argued with me and did things that I told you not to do and stood up to me when I gave you a hard time or tried to discourage you." He smiled at the memories that had brought them to where they were, "You never backed down from me."

She frowned and pulled away to fix him with an unconvinced look, "I'm stubborn and disobedient; that's why you liked me?"

His hand closed around hers, squeezing surely, pulling her closer. "No," he said in a low, raspy voice, "You're strong and confident; that's why I liked you." He pressed a kiss to her hairline before pulling back to look her in the eye, "I've never met anyone like you before, Deej, and I doubt I ever will again." She smiled and leaned against him again, nuzzling her head against his jawline--the uninjured side--and placing small kisses there that made his chest rumble with a satisfied growl that sounded more like a purr. They stayed like that for as long as they could before sleep began necessary and they reluctantly pulled apart, each returning to their tents without the other, empty, now, and longing.

The next morning, on the bus, DG sat next to Glitch, deciding she hadn't had many oppurtunities to talk to her friend during this journey, but she couldn't keep her mind from wandering to the man who sat with her sister, vehemently arguing war-strategies and guerilla methods. She laughed when she heard her sister's comment of, "its a good thing ignorance can't snap wire, or else you would have bled out by now," and asked Glitch if he thought either of them knew why they were fighting about such a thing; he had no idea, which he admitted with a charming giggle and a reverant glance over his shoulder to the older princess in question.

It was near their normal lunch time when Brake called out that they were getting close, and DG's eyes went to the window, widening at the sight. It was still a couple hundred feet away, but the way the sunlight glistened off of the gems was unavoidable; they were finally there.

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
Oh, god--I watched Star Trek again! AAH! -lights hair on fire and runs around in circles manically- ...Oh, and I don't own "Tin Man."

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Asleep," by The Smiths.

**Special Note**::  
Another super-fluff, but there's a clue coming up soon. I know this one was short and badly-written and bla, but my brain shut down. But hey, three updates in three days! Aren't y'all glad I dropped out of school so that I can write for you _ALL DAY LONG_?!

_**Special**_** Special Note**::  
Currently working on some OC sketches. YAYS!


	15. Monochrome

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Fifteen:: Monochrome  
"..._see--can you see colours that the ocean offers?_..."

**-- -- --**

By the time they were actually next to the Crystal Fields, DG, Azkadellia, and Glitch all had their faces pressed against the windows of the bus, staring at the gemmed objects in awe. There were thousands upon thousands, stretching as far as they could see--garnet roses, howlite lilies, taafeite tulips, zircon daisies; DG tried to name all the stones and flowers she remembered from her college Mineral and Botany classes, but it was almost impossible. There were so many colours and shapes that she began to wonder if they were even the same kind of gems; maybe there were another million she'd have to learn all over again. Cain watched her from his seat, smiling softly at the way her eyes widened and darted around to take it all in, the way she went slackjawed and silenced in amazement, the way he could tell, just from the way she held herself, that she was thinking at least ten thousand things at once. He had a feeling that this would be a good place for her.

When Brake had pulled the bus to a complete stop, Azkadellia was the first off, barely waiting for him to open the door. DG was right behind her, and they stood before the gem flowers with twin elated looks on their faces as the others caught up. The younger princess smiled widely when she heard a deep voice behind her, "Its really somethin', isn't it?" She nodded, not turning to look at Cain, unable to tear her eyes away from the scene.

"Completely uninhabited, too," Glitch informed them, looking around, "It was a bedtime story even when I was a child--and its still believed today--that a great spirit watches over the fields, to prevent anyone from picking the flowers. So, whatever you do," he warned, "Don't try to take anything."

Azkadellia shook her head, still hypnotized at the sigh before her, "Who would want to? It would ruin all the beauty." She turned her head and smiled at Glitch, who returned it with a cautious one of his own. DG, standing between the two of them, looked back and forth for a few seconds, but the rainbow that formed before their eyes when the sunlight hit the gem-petals was far too breathtaking to ignore. She could feel Cain's hand falling casually on her back, high enough to seem innocent and friendly to all who might look on, but gentle enough to send chills up the girl's spine. She wondered how bright her eyes were at that moment, because she felt more joy within her than she had in a long time. They all just stared for what seemed like an endless time of sunlight and ease, all of which was broken when Mérca cleared her throat from the door of the bus. Her voice was small and cautious, careful not to say more than she had to, not yet forgetting the blazing hate in the princess's eyes and the knowledge that it was fully justified. "The clue," she mumbled, eyes locked on her feet.

Jeb nodded, taking a step backward in an attempt to break the spell the fields seemed to have over them all, "Right, right. We have to find the clue."

"It was pretty foggy," Glitch reminded them, "It was hard to tell what anything was, except for the flowers." They all agreed and began to think of what--_where_--the clue could possibly be. Soon, however, Azkadellia's stomach rumbled loud enough for all to hear and she blushed a little before suggesting they have their lunch, and they all took a break from the strenuous thoughts to make a meal from the now-dwindling food supply. They sat between a group of trees, eating quietly and making light conversation, like they always seemed to do when they didn't want to think too hard about something too important. DG ate in near-muteness, slowly chewing a simple sandwich. When she'd finished, she stood and politely excused herself, telling them she was going to go poke around to see if she could find anything meaningful, and Cain's eyes followed her as she went. She'd been so happy when they got there, her smile had been so bright as to match her stunning eyes--now it was gone, and she was somber again, constantly analyzing and raking her mind for the smallest details she may have omitted. They were a lot alike, in that sense; Cain never could got the hang of turning his mind off, and he was always overthinking every little thing. But he didn't want her to be like him--a miserable, pitiful, broken old being--he wanted her to be like her--the woman who could heal who he'd become. He wanted her to be smiling again, always. So he set down his plate and stood to follow her through the trees, telling the others that he was going to the bus for some of the medicines there. He found the princess standing among the flowers and started through the field as well, careful not to crush any of the precious stones.

DG heard him approaching, now all too familiar with his consistant footfall, and she didn't turn immediately. She heard him stop right behind her, felt the warmth of his body so close to hers. She took in a deep breath and began to turn, "I can't figure out what--" but she was unable to finish her sentence, once his lips came down on hers. He put one hand in the middle of her back, pressing her close to him, and the one on the side of her face, gently stroking her jaw with his thumb. His lips were warm and firm against hers, and there was such a heartfelt desparity to his kiss that it made her own heart thumb harder and she had to pull back to catch her breath. She looked up at him with foggy blue, wondering eyes, "What was that for?"

"Shootin' for a good result," he mumbled absently before leaning in again, capturing her lips and moving his own against them strongly. She kissed back with a passion that a princess should never show, if she were to be assumed as innocent as princesses were expected to be. Her hands gripped his collar and pulled him closer, arching against him, sighing into his mouth when his tongue seeked entrance to hers. She opened her eyes for a second to look at Cain's face, and found it hard and full of desire, eyes squeezed shut, thinking of nothing but her. The light had hit the flowers again, and the colours that filled the air enveloped them in a warm glow; it was enough to make the girl pull back and smile brightly. Cain looked down at her, a little smirk on his face, "There it is."

"There what is?" DG asked, confused, but never losing the bright smile that stretched across her face.

He pressed another kiss against her lips, short and sweet, and then said, "That smile. Hasn't been there as much lately; I was really starting to miss it." Another kiss fell on her forehead before he gave her a gentle grin and told her, "I'll let you get back to thinking." He ran two warms hands over her arms before he turned and started back for the group, stopping at the bus to grab the tube of what DG had taught him was called Neosporin. Once he was gone, the princess carefully sat between the flowers, thinking of what he'd told her. He liked her smile. He'd _missed_ her smile. He liked to see her happy. It made her think of all the things she liked about Cain, and she began to feel a guilt rise in her chest at the realization that, while he'd told her many things, she'd never told him any reasons she cared as much for him as he did for her. Just as she began to frown at the thought, she remembered what he'd just told her, and she didn't let the smile drop from her face; she figured she could at least do that much for him.

After lunch, the rest of the group joined DG in the field and continued to think of what the clue could have been. The suns had begun to set when Mérca's head popped up, "Moon."

DG rolled her eyes, "Tourette's much?"

"What?" The perétuel's brow furrowed in confusion before she shook her head and explained, "The vision was of the flowers and the moon; the _full_ _moon_."

Brake's eyes widened a little, "Moonstone."

"Moonstone?" Cain questioned, obviously unaware of the object.

Brake's eyes met DG's, and she nodded, explaining slowly, "Moonstone is a gem on the Other Side. Most of them are a sort of yellowish colour, but some are almost transparent and catch the light in this really beautiful way. They were my favourite to study. They are really well-known for the way they catch and reflect..." her voice slowed considerably as it dawned on her, "Light. The light of the full moon," she said to herself.

Az's eyes widened as she caught on, "So when the full moon rises, the light will reflect the stone you're talking about and..." she trailed off, unsure of how the rest went.

"Lead us to the next clue," Cain finished, recieving a nod from DG. He sighed deeply, making his shoulders rise and fall noticably, and shook his head, "Wow. That's pretty complicated, even for the Great Lumiére."

"Mhm," Azkadellia nodded before turning to Glitch, "How long until the full moon?"

"Tomorrow night," he told her immediately, eyes to the sky, where the moon was beginning to brighten. He looked back at the elder princess and nodded surely, "Yes, tomorrow night," he repeated.

Az looked at the others, a sudden matter-of-fact tone to her voice, "So, we should just set up camp for the night and we'll have the clue tomorrow, right?" She looked to Jeb, who nodded in agreement, soon followed by all the others. They all agreed and set up an outdoor camp, wanting to sleep by the radiating night colours. DG and Az left their tent flap undone so that they could watch the dancing blues and pinks and yellows against the deep purple sky as they fell to their restful slumbers.

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
I like cold cuts, apple jam, and Tin Man--however, you will find none if these in my refrigerator.

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Monochrome," by Ilaria Graziano.


	16. Monochrome Pt 2

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Sixteen:: Monochrome (Pt. 2)  
"..._feeling in monochrome--who taught you emotions? be--can you be something more than black, white, and gray?_..."

**-- -- --**

"So," Azkadellia said the next morning as she and her sister dressed behind their tent flap, "You and Mister Cain, huh?"

DG, who'd been slipping a fresh shirt over her head, faltered a little, getting her arm stuck in the head hole and flapping around like a cracked-out bird for a while before she finally got all her limbs in place and secured the shirt over her torso. "Excuse me?" Her voice was calm, but there was a subtle shakiness to her feigned ignorance that gave her away.

Her sister rolled her eyes, "Come on, Deej--are you really going to try to lie to me?" When no answer came, she sighed and smirked cockily, "Its pretty obvious, you know."

"Great," DG mumbled dryly, wiggling into her jeans.

Az continued as if she hadn't heard her, "I mean, you went from the off-and-on fighting to being all sweet and cooperative around each other."

"I would really rather not talk about this," the younger princess said with a twinge of nervousness to her voice. She knew that Cain didn't want anyone to know, and quite frankly, she was beginning to like the secretiveness as well; that way, she wouldn't have to explain her feelings to anyone until she got them completely figured out. Right now, she didn't know how deep those feelings went, or how to fully express them, or any of the number of other things Cain had already showed to her, so the last thing she wanted to do was discuss her relationship with her sister.

But again, her comment was ignored, "And you guys are always sneaking off together--rather indescretely, I might add--and you come back with these huge smiles. Oh, and they way you--

"Az," a sigh.

"Look at each other when you think no one's looking, and the cute--"

"Az," a warning.

"Secret hand-holding. I mean, why don't--"

"Az!" A bark.

"You just tell me what's going on, exactly?"

DG snapped then, unintentionally, but undeniably, "Why don't you _just_ tell me what's going on, _exactly_, between you and Glitch?" Her voice was low, but she spoke quickly, not with anger, but with impatience and avoidance, "The furtive glances, the amiable smiles, the mushy-gushy-la-la conversations. You want to talk about obvious?" She laughed harshly, "Why don't you focus on your _own _dissimulated, dysfunctional relationship and leave _mine _the hell alone?" She didn't bother with anything like else, like putting on her shoes or her jacket or doing her hair, before she ripped down the flap and made a quick walk from the campsite, walking as far as she could into the field before her feet turned numb and tired and she dropped down onto the ground. She buried her head in her hands, pushing them through her hair and blowing a deep breath from puffed cheeks; _well_, a little voice in her head told her sarcastically, _that went well_. She commanded the voice to shut up, slamming the heel of her palm against her temple once, twice, three times and then dizziness worked its way through her eyes and she had to stop. Tears chased the dizziness away, and she covered her eyes with her forearm, crying against it. Crying turned to sobbing, and soon she'd pulled her knees close to her chest, one arm still against her face as the other held her stomach, keeping in the jerking nausea. What kind of person was she that she would take her self-frustrations out on her sister, and take it as far as that? Just when she thought being with Cain could be good for her, something had to come and turn it bad.

She hadn't even heard him approach this time. She didn't know he was there until his arms were closing around her, holding her close against his warm chest. He didn't say anything, or ask her what was wrong; he didn't even whisper small "shhs" and "it'll be all rights," to her. He just held her and pressed small kisses against the top of her head, like he knew exactly what she needed. Comfort in silence. It _was_ what she needed, and he _did_ know, which only served to make her feel worse. She wouldn't have known if he needed something like that. Classic DG would have tried to pry details from him, because she couldn't just let good enough--or bad enough--alone. She always had to push everything. So what could she tell him now? What could she offer him?

"Its gotta be kind of funny, huh?" She finally said, bitter, wiping her eyes and sniffling.

Cain held her a little tighter and ran his hand through her hair, his voice coming through with painful gentleness, "What does?"

"Usually, when there's a princess involved, its the _man _that has to worry about not being good enough," she chuckled without humour, "But not us. No siree. I'm the pauper in this scenario."

"I don't follow."

"Of course you don't!" She cried exhaustedly, pushing off from him, looking away, "Because you're perfect in every single way. You're strong and smart and sweet and _gorgeous_, and you know so much and you're so in-tune with _everything_, and you always keep your cool and think everything through before you do something that could be even slightly dangerous. You always put everyone else ahead of yourself and you always think of others; you're so selfless. And I," she sniffed again, willing her manic tears to stop, but they wouldn't, "I am so far from perfect. I don't think before I talk or act and I never know what anyone needs, so sometimes I just don't even try because its just too much work and its so hard, and I lose my head over the smallest things and just..._blow up_. And I never listen to people; I always do what I want to do, goddam what anyone else has to say about it. I'm a mess. That's it. That's all I am, is one big, huge, snivelling, _royal_ mess, and you shouldn't want to have anything to do with me. I don't deserve you." And then she crumpled into tears so hard that she thought she became one herself; just a giant blob of salt and moisture soaking into the plants and making them grow taller.

Cain was silent for a moment that seemed to last so long that DG feared he would just agree with her, get up, and walk away, and then she'd never have him again. What in the hell was she thinking, telling him all of those things? But then he looked down at her, eyes sparkling an azure blue that matched the flowers he sat by, and told her simply, "That's stupid." When she turned her confused eyes up to him, he continued strongly, almost harsh in speaking his words, "DG, everything you're feeling now," he gestured to her, "Is completely normal; believe me. So, maybe you're a little imperfect, and a little vulnerable," he reached down and wiped a tear from her eye with his rough thumb, "But that's the price you pay for being human. This place you're at right now? I've been there, too--so have Glitch and Azkadellia and Brake and your parents and, hell, maybe even Raw. But you're not a mess. You are so far from a mess, you couldn't see mess with a telescope. And as for you not deserving me," his eyes began to blaze at her and she could almost physically feel their heat burning a hole through her, "Don't ever think that, because you're everything I want. I'd like to think that _I_ get to choose what _I_ deserve, and I choose you."

She started sobbing harder, but this time there was some joy in it, and she allowed herself to sink into his opened arms, knowing he would keep her safe and content for as long as she needed him to. Once again, he hugged her close and kissed her head and stroked her hair like she was a child in his arms, and then he asked, "Now, do you want to tell me what brought this all on?"

"Oh, god!" She pulled away quickly, the suddenness striking away her tears, replacing them with pure anguish and urgency, "I have to apologize to Az."

She expected him to ask questions, though it seemed a little silly to think that of him at this point. He knew her, and he didn't need explainations. Instead, he just nodded to her, still searching her eyes, and said, "So, go apologize."

"Don't you want to know what I did?"

He sighed thoughtfully, looking down at one of the flowers, running his fingers over it, "I figure," he said slowly, "You'll tell me anything you want me to know, _when_ you want me to know, and I can wait." He looked up at her seriously, "I'm not going anywhere."

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
I have to pee, so I'll make this quick--I DON'T OWN IT!

**Inspiration**::  
Once again, this chapter was inspired by the song "Monochrome," by Ilaria Graziano. This will be the case until the gang leaves the Crystal Fields.

**Special Note**::  
Okay, so I know this chapter was a little dramatic and emo and cliché, but I needed a filler chapter, and I wanted to sort of extend on the emotional aspect (instead of just the physical) of Cain and DG's relationship, and get it out of the way. So, please don't stone me because its mushy-gushy-la-la poo-poo. I'm not good at writing love stuff; its one of those "had to have been there to understand" kinds of things.


	17. Monochrome Pt 3

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Seventeen:: Monochrome (Pt. 3)  
"..._feel--can you feel? Might be why colours disappear_..."

**-- -- --**

"Az?" DG poked her head into the tent she shared with her sister, only to find it empty. She was busy wiping tears from her eyes as she straightened up and looked around. Opened flaps told her that all the tents were empty, and there was no one by the once-fire but the still-sleeping Brake. She was about to lose control of herself and break down again, thinking her sister had run from her, when she heard a familiar giggle coming through from somewhere nearby? She raised her eyebrows and followed the noise, tracing it behind a wide tree, where Glitch was pointing seriously at something on the trunk and Azkadellia was rocking back on her heels, holding her stomach in laughter. "Glitch," she gasped between her laughs, "The tree did _not_ attack you; you ran into it."

"I did _not_," he insisted with a frown on his face, clearly not finding the situation as funny as she did, which only made her laugh harder.

DG fidgeted a bit, picking at her fingernails before interrupting, "Um, Az?" They both turned to look at her and she ducked her head, "Can we talk?" Az agreed, walking to her sister as she took deep, gulping breaths, trying to settle her giggles and push away the bright red that had grown there with the lack of oxygen. The sisters walked out of earshot of Glitch, who was still examining the tree with a standoffish expression, and DG put her hand on her sister's arm to stop her and turn her so that they were facing one another. "Az, listen," DG started slowly, inhaling deeply, "I'm really sorry about that stuff I said. I was freaked that you caught on to what was going on between Cain and I, and I got defensive and harsh. And I know that you have every right to be mad at me right now, but if there's anything I can do to make you _not_ be mad at me--"

"I'm not mad at you," Azkadellia stated, almost surprised at the suggestion.

"I would do anyth--wait, what?" DG's forehead wrinkled as she studied her sister closely, "What do you mean, you're not mad? I mean, I said all of those things--"

Azkadellia shrugged, "Why would that bother me? Everything you said was true. And I, unlike some people," she elbowed her sister in a playful way, "Don't try to hide things from people. Its no secret that I'm very fond of Glitch, and I would never dream of denying it." She gave a watery smile before narrowing her eyes a bit, "But its not a relationship--not yet, at least; we're taking it slow. That's why it may seem," she rolled her eyes humourously and feigned a sigh, "'Dissimulated' and 'dysfunctional.'"

DG let out a huge sigh of relief and hugged her sister tightly. "Oh, Az," she said into the other girl's hair, "So, you're really not mad?"

"I'm really not mad," she confirmed. Then she pushed her sister back, holding her at arm's length to look at her sincerely, "But I am sorry. I knew that you and Cain were trying to keep things under-wraps--though I don't quite understand why--and I shouldn't have brought it up. I just couldn't help myself, I guess."

The younger princess shrugged, looking away, "We didn't want anyone to know until we had it all figured out. At the time, I wasn't crazy about the idea, but now...well, it seems okay. I don't know just how deep in it I am with Cain, and I'd like to figure that out before I run around singing my springtime songs."

"Oh, Deej," Az said soothingly, tucking a tuft of her sister's hair behind the ear it had poked over, "Deep. You're in very, very deep." She gave her one last warm smile before returning to Glitch, who had begun to circle the tree with a challenging look in his eye. DG stayed where she was, letting a surrendering sigh escape from her diaphragm, "Yeah," she mumbled to herself, "_Very_ deep."

--

"Okay, okay, okay," DG said later that afternoon, trying to recompose herself after a violent fit of giggles. "Now, do that voice again, but say 'hey, lady.'"

Jeb balanced his lunch plate on his knees and made his voice nasalled and high-pitched, "Hey, laaaady!"

At that, DG pitched forward, laughter shaking her shoulders so violently that Sci Fi could have made 10.7 II out of it. "Jerry Lewis," she cackled, "He did Jerry Lewis; Brake, did you hear that?" He nodded, unable to speak as he was caught in his own laughter. DG straightened and wiped a tear from her eye, telling the younger Cain, "If you lived on the Other Side, you could be a comic impersonator or a voice actor or something like that."

"Why, thank you, m'darling," he answered in the Jerry Lewis voice, which caused DG to double over once more. They'd all gone off exploring around midmorning, so lunch had happened late. They'd opted for just sandwiches and dried fruits and now sat in a circle around where the fire had been the night before, talking and joking around. When Jeb had done an almost spot-on immitation of his father's trademark scowl and gruff voice, DG began testing every possible voice the young man had. He had many, she found out, and it brought her much amusement to hear them all; it almost matched the pleasure she felt when she saw that happy, fatherly twinkle in Cain's eye as he listened in. God, she wanted to kiss him so badly then, and tell him what a great man he was, but she held herself back. With all the mental force she could muster, of course. So, naturally, when he got up to get something from the bus, she followed, ignoring the now-knowing gaze her sister watched her with. It didn't matter. She just wanted her tin man.

"What're you looking for?" DG asked, leaning against the pole that stood just behind the driver's seat. Cain whipped around to look at her before grinning smally and turning away, answering shortly, "My gun. Never know what the clues are going to be, and I like to be prepared." He reached down to one of the seats and pulled back his gun holster, the pistol still in place. He began fumbling to fasten it around his waist--_this_ was why he never took it off; it was so damned hard to get back on--when DG took a step toward him, taking the material from his hands.

As she began to loop the belt through the buckle, she spoke, though her eyes stayed on her work, "You're a good dad, you know that?"

He breathed out through his nose, a tell-tale sign that it was a sensitive subject, and he said, "Am I?"

"Yes," she insisted. She finished fastening the belt and pressed both of her hands flat on his stomach, "Because your son loves you. That's all you need to be a good father." She heard his breath hitch a little when her hands touched him, and she turned her eyes upward to look into his. They were almost transparent, but so full of desire that it almost scared her. Slowly, she slid her hands up from his stomach, over his chest, until they were on his shoulders and her thumbs were brushing against his neck softly.

"I worry sometimes," he said quietly, his hands tracing down her sides to settle on her hips.

"Worrying only makes you better," she said, leaning closer to him, smelling gunpowder and fresh dirt on him. She never thought two singularly unappealing things could band together and make her want him all the more. "Worrying means you care."

"Worrying means I care," he repeated with a little grin, then he leaned down, closing the small distance between them and pressing his lips to hers. He pulled back quickly, intending for it to be short and sweet, not wanting to get too wrapped up in it when sunset was so close. But DG would have none of that; she immediately put on hand on the back of his head and pulled him back down for another, molding her lips restlessly against his, begging for him to give in. He did, finally--allowing her access when her tongue so confidently demanded it. She pressed even closer, wanting to move into him until they were virtually unrecognizable as two seperate beings, and a rumbling groan escaped him--almost savage--as he used the hands that lay on her hips to push her back from him. She looked at him with confusion, wondering why he'd rejected her so soon after giving in, and he shook his head sadly. "My god, DG," he mumbled, rubbing one hand over his face a couple of times, as if to snap himself out of his bewitchment, "You're making this really hard on me."

"That was the p--"

"Don't be vulgar now," he commanded gently, almost teasingly, shaking one finger in her face like one would a puppy who piddled on the carpet. "I mean, I'm trying to be the gentleman and control myself, but you're not making it easy."

She took a step in to him, "I don't need you to be a gentleman."

"But DG," he took a step back at her advancement, "Its part of who I am. Okay?"

She stepped back, crossing her arms and looking away, a girlish pout on her face. "Okay," she submitted reluctantly, bitterly. "But someday," she said matter-of-factly, turning back to return his finger-in-the-face tactic, "A very _soon_ someday, this is going to happen, right?"

He laughed openly then, and if he wanted her to be a good girl, that was a very _bad_ way of going about it. That laugh did things to her. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead, whispering, "Deej, I'm a _gentleman_...not a monk." He looked out through the window and saw that the sky had begun to turn to orange, "The suns are starting to set; come on." He reached out, and she slipped one of her hands into the one he offered her, following him back to where the others sat. Together, they all went to stand over the fields, waiting for the moon to cast its light on a single flower, lost in a field of flowers.

In the Outer Zone--as DG had come to find--sunset didn't happen the way it did back in Kansas. The moon wasn't already up in the sky as the suns left; they had moonrise. Sunset, and then moonrise. So as they waited in the ink-black darkness for the moon to rise, DG took the oppurtunity to slip her hand into Cain's once more, squeezing it tightly as a sort of reminder of what he'd promised her would happen. Every time she did so, he'd let out a little chuckle in the back of his throat, and everyone would ask what was so funny. It took all DG had not to bust out in goofy guffaws.

Finally, the moon, fat and perfectly rounded, entered the sky. The light of it was frighteningly bright, and Mérca was the first to notice a glow beneath them. "There," she pointed. It was harder for the others to notice, at first, because they did not have eyes that were as complex as the perpétuel's, but as the moon rose higher in the sky, the glow became brighter and soon they could all see it. DG was the first in the field and soon the others followed to join her by the large moonstone chrysanthemum, burning an impossible shade of blue in the darkness. When the moon was perfectly centred above them, the glow began to stretch out slowly until it reached the trunk of a simple apple tree. DG cast a confused look at the rest of the group before running forward, careful to avoid crushing any of the delicate petals beneath her feet.

"What?" DG whispered to herself, face screwed up in confusion. She circled the tree once before leaning close to examine it; she felt like Glitch. "Why would it point to--"

"_Boo_!" The princess let out a little scream and jumped backwards, right into Cain's safe arms. She looked up at him, giving him a smile of thanks, before she stepped forward again. Where there had been only a small knot in the trunk before, there was now a full face. It was all a little too Disney for her.

"Grandmother Willow?" She couldn't stop herself from asking.

"Who?" A male voice spoke over the smiling teeth of the face. He had an English accent, and it almost made DG laugh for the most ridiculous reason--her first thought wasn't, "what kind of tree talks?" so much as "what kind of tree has an English accent?" She was about to say something when the tree told her, "I am the Smiling Man."

"Man?" Mérca questioned incredulously.

The Smiling Man laughed at this, "Things happen, sweet."

"Are you--" Glitch took a small step forward, "Are you the great spirit that watches over the fields?"

The tree laughed again, which became even creepier every time he did it, "Yes, I suppose I am." His voice was very gentle, though, and it reminded DG of her grandfather--not that she ever had a grandfather, but if she had, that's what she imagined he would sound like. He turned his eyes--little black slits--to DG and Azkadellia, who'd somehow worked themselves to stand side by side. "You must be Dorothy Gale and Azkadellia, yes?" They both nodded slowly, and if they could have seen themselves, they would have laughed. The Smiling Man, living up to his name, smiled kindly at them, "Yes, your mother left a clue for you here. A riddle. Are you familiar with riddles?"

DG groaned, "Yes," she whined, "And very bad at them."

"Lumiére had confidence in you when she left the riddle with me, and I agree with her wholeheartedly. The two daughters of the reigning Queen of Light could never disappoint."

"Wow," Az muttered under her breath, "No pressure."

"Are you prepared?" The Smiling Man continued. DG and Azkadellia looked around at the others, who all gave them encouraging nods, before nodding themselves. The tree began rattling off the clue, "_Wind takes me by night, though rare in the day_; _the sky is my ally, and the earth is my prey_. _I hold myself proudly, ever bold and tall_; _perhaps, for I know who is wisest of all_."

There was a long beat of silence before it was broken by Glitch, who gave a charming chuckle and said, "Whoever it is, there is certainly no shortage on ego."

The tree seemed to roll his eyes, "You have no idea." Then, to the princesses, he said, "If you figure the general idea, perhaps I could lend a hand...so to speak."

"'Wind takes me by night, though rare in the day,' hm," DG recited thoughtfully. A second later, her face brightened, as if she had it, "Ah! Wait," it crumpled again, her lips tugging down to a frown, "Uh, no. Nope." She shook her head and then massaged her temples with her hand, trying to think.

"Honestly?" Az said, surprised, "I got it before you?"

"You've got it?" DG demanded. "What is it?"

Azkadellia held up one hand, "No, no, wait; I want to bask in this for a moment. I finally figured out something before you. I feel so smart!" When eyes were narrowed at her, the older princess laughed and said, "All right. Its an _owl_."

Silence. Then, Brake said, "An owl? Are you serious?"

She nodded excitedly, "Completely serious. Owl's are nocturnal; they are around 'in the night, though rare in the day.' And they're master ground-hunters, so the earth is their prey. And, all together now, who is the wisest of the animal kingdom?"

"Owl," they all said in slow unison as it hit them all. That is, all but Mérca, who muttered, "Cat," under her breath.

"V_ery_ good," the Smiling Man said happily. "Yes, Princess Azkadellia; very good in_deed_. I shall fill in the rest, if you don't mind." They didn't. "His name is Akil," the tree told them in a serious voice, almost warning, "He is the oldest and wisest of creatures in the Outer Zone, not to mention the largest. He is one of the Ancients that took animal form when his kingdom began to fall. To Akil, night and day are decades; he sleeps for ten years at a time. He is in his seventh year of slumber now; he holds the last clue."

DG sighed and slumped a little, unintentionally sagging against Cain's chest, "Do you mean we have to wait _three years_--annuals," she corrected quickly, "_Three annuals_ to find the vessel?"

"No, love," the Smiling Man said somberly, all traces of his smile gone now. His voice was rough and almost afraid, "You have to wake him."

This struck a cord of fear in DG, and everyone else, from the expressions that ran through the group. The princess craned her neck to look up at Cain, who still had on the bravest of faces. He glanced down at her before sighing through his nose and looking back up, asking simply, "Where do we find him?"

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
Gaw, I have to pee again! I think this song makes my bladder go wonky...and I don't own "Tin Man."

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter, again, was inspired by the song "Monochrome," by Ilaria Graziano. The last and final Monochrome! -cries-

**Special Note**::  
-winks at _TheShoelessOne_- Form of...NEAL'S BOXER-SHORTS!

_**Super**_** Special Note**::  
There were a lot of outside references in this chapter! Andrew Francis (who played Jeb) is actually a voice actor, so I had to throw that in there. And the whole Grandmother Willow thing, because I watched Pocahontas earlier today. And the tree that "attacked" Glitch, and the apple tree, because I watched "The Wizard of Oz" last night and re-fell in love with the angry apple trees! And I hope my riddle was good!


	18. Paper Bag

_**Wrinkled & Torn**_

Chapter Eighteen:: Paper Bag  
"..._hunger hurts, and I want him so bad--oh, it kills_..."

**-- -- --**

"He said _left_," Glitch insisted, leaning over the seat in front of him.

"No," Brake said through gritted teeth, trying to stay patient, "He said right; now, sit back before I toss you out the back."

Glitch began to argue when Azkadellia's hand took hold of his shoulder and jerked him back next to her. "Let it go, Glitch; he's bigger than you," she smiled kindly at his cute little frown and began asking him meaningless questions, as to distract him.

They'd left the Crystal Fields right after the Smiling Man had informed them of Akil's dwellings. They would have stayed the night again, but they were all eager to find the final clue (and have it all done with) as quick as possible and get it all over with. The Smiling Man told them the owl was sleeping just beneath the surface of a town that was only a few hour's drive from the fields, and they should look for a hollowed tree to lead them to him. The Smiling Man had shuddered at that--the idea of a tree being hollowed out. Before they'd thanked him and left, he'd allowed them to pick some fresh fruit from his branches, telling them that each apple contained a surprise inside. DG's comment of "like a cereal box?" brought about a lot of confusion then. After that, they'd all packed on to the bus, Cain straggling behind only slightly before joinin them, and they set off. They were all on edge now, anxious to find Akil--well, all but Cain and DG.

"No, I'm being completely honest!" DG exclaimed, quickly swallowing the bite of apple in her mouth, "The skree were not the worst thing I've ever smelled."

Cain rolled his eyes incredulously, "Then that was a very dedicated gagging-and-passing-out act you did when we were in the gathering."

She gave him a playful whack on the arm, "I mean, _yes_, the skree were bad, but I've smelt worst."

"Oh, yeah? What?"

"You mean _who_," she corrected, then told him, "Bobby Abbel." Her voice suddenly dropped, solemn, "Sad story.

Cain caught the sudden change in her attitude and covered one of her hands with his own, squeezing gently, "What happened?"

"Well," DG absently peeled off some of the skin of the apple and gnawed on it, "Bobby Abbel was a kid I met when I was still in high school. I was," she looked away in thought, "Sixteen, I think, and I'd just started waitressing at the Hilltop Café. One day, I came in late and my boss was all mad at me and he told me, 'just for that, you have to be Bobby's waitress.' Then he pointed him out to me, and I went to take his order. I got about ten feet from him and the smell hit me and I almost threw up; he smelled like he'd never been near a bar of soap in his entire life. He had this," she gestured to her head, "Dirty, matted hair and torn clothes, and there was so much dirt caked to his skin that I didn't even know what his ethnicity was. And, god, that smell was horrible," she wrinkled her nose at the memory. "He came around a lot. He never had any money for food, but we always gave him a free slice of pie and a cup of coffee; I figured out, after a while, that if you peppermint extract under your nose, you couldn't smell him." She dug her thumbnail into the meat of the apple in her hands, "We would talk sometimes, and he finally told me about his mother. See, what had happened was, Bobby was an only child, and his dad left before he was born, and I guess his mother was some kind of nutjob. When he was a baby, he would soil himself--like all babies do--and his mom finally got fed up with it and told him that if that was the way he wanted it, he could never be clean. She never let him bathe or brush his hair or wash his clothes or anything like that, and..." she trailed off.

"And what?" Cain asked softly.

She shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant but failing miserably, "If he bathed at school or someone else's house, she'd figure it out by the smell--or, lack of smell, I guess--and she'd...she'd beat him." She sighed sadly, "So he finally stopped trying. He was only fourteen years old when I met him."

"What happened to him?"

She shrugged again, still picking at her apple, "I don't know. About seven months after that, he stopped coming in, and I never saw him again." She leaned forward to dig through her small bag, finally finding the scrap bit of plastic she needed and wrapping the half-eaten fruit in it. When her shoulders hit the back of the seat again, she found Cain staring at her with sad eyes. "What?"

He shook his head, "It just--I'm sorry that you've had to know cruelty like that."

His voice was so sincere and so full of emotion that it sent waves upon waves of desire through DG, and she once again found herself short of breath in his presence. "Mister Cain," she told him, half-teasing, half-warning, "If you keep talking to me like that, I'm going to have to kiss you."

He smirked, leaning a little closer, "The downside to that being...?"

"In front of everyone."

"Ah." He drew back then, and did something DG could have never expected. He raised his voice just enough to be heard and said, "I told you that you should have washed that apple first; do you feel like you're going to throw up?" He did a discrete half-nod to the younger princess, who took the hint and confirmed, and he stood, "Well, come on; I'll help you to the bathroom." DG put one hand over her mouth and let Cain pretend to help her to the back of the bus, where he opened the door to the small bathroom and carefully guided her in, following and locking the door behind them. DG smiled and started in for him, but he held up his hand to stop her, whispering, "You've got to hack a little. Make it sound believable." She did, and then he turned the faucet in the sink before reaching out for her, drawing her close and running one hand down the side of her face.

DG's hands came up to grip his collar and pull him closer to her before she went on her tip-toes and pressed her lips against his. It was soft at first, sweet, and she pulled back within seconds to smile at him. When she did pull back, however, he didn't return the smile; he stared down at her with clouded eyes that sent adrenaline pulsing throughout her body and shook her to her core, and then he leaned back in. When his lips hit hers, there was nothing soft or sweet about them; it was almost carnal. His hands grabbed at her waist and pressed her firmly against the wall of the bathroom, his tongue sneaking out to seek hers, soon to find and become reacquainted with it. His body pressed against hers tightly, molding to her, as her hands buried themselves within his white-blonde hair. She let out a quiet, almost breathless moan as he broke away from her mouth and began trailing rough kisses along her jaw and neck, and she could feel one of his hands slip under the hem of her shirt, running over the skin of her stomach.

"Oh, god," she groaned, half in pleasure and half in reluctance. "Cain, wait." It was like flipping a switch, and then man pulled back immediately, with an almost ashamed look on his face. "No, no," she quickly backpeddled, "There was nothing wrong with..._that_. Its just that, well, you're the one that said we should wait."

He tried to speak twice before he was successful, and his voice came out rough and hoarse, "I wasn't going to go there."

She smirked, "Yeah, but I would have, if you'd kept on like you were. And as much as I liked this passionate--allbeit, very unprovoked--display, I'd just as soon _not_ have our first time together take place in a crapper, with everyone just outside thinking I'm upping my apple." She stopped for a moment, examining her own words, and then said to herself, "Wow, that sounded dirty."

Cain shook his head, now looking at her with almost awe, "I don't understand you."

"No one does," she assured him, leaning up to peck him on the cheek. When she pulled back, she did a little bounce and said, "I feel much better after getting that out of my system; I just hope I'm not contagious."

The ex-tin man did not miss her teasing, "Hey," he told her, "It was an excuse to get us here."

"Mhm, I know," she smiled at him before opening to door, leaving him behind. "Okay, everyone," he heard her announce to the bus, "Do _not_ eat the apples."

**-- -- --**

**Disclaimer**::  
I don't own "Tin Man," and that makes me very emo. -eats apple-

**Inspiration**::  
This chapter was inspired by the song "Paper Bag," by Fiona Apple.

**Special Note**::  
1) Bobby Abbel's story is actually a true one about a kid that I used to know, so I hope you didn't laugh at that part. It was meant to be serious. 2) The whole "random-heavy-makeout-pressing-DG-against-the-wall" thing was based off of a dream I had last night, involving Jason Momoa and myself. I've never had a sex-dream, but that was pretty freakin' close! 3) Sorry that there's really no big plot to this chapter; I didn't have the energy for it. So, this is another one of those loverly Cain/DG interludes. Like it? Hate it? Leave reviews, please! ...Unless, you _actually_ hated it, in which case, it hates you back and doesn't care what you think.


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